Category: English

My mother died unexpectedly during surgery. During my darkest time, my boyfriend Wright stayed by my side. Later, I discovered that my mother’s surgery was performed by Wright’s childhood friend Chris. Chris was just an intern with no surgical qualifications. Yet Wright helped Chris hide this from me. I broke up with him and studied hard, becoming the nation’s finest neurosurgeon. Twenty years later, I received a surgical case. When I opened the patient file, I discovered the patient was Wright’s father. I said to my assistant: “I’m not doing this surgery!” “Dr. Lester, what do you mean?” My assistant Carlos was still frozen in place while I had already started packing up. “Change my flight for me.” “But… there’s not a second person in the country who can perform brainstem tumor surgery. If you leave, the patient will…” “I know, but I can’t take this case.” I pulled open the door and walked out of the conference room. Neville from Central Hospital’s neurosurgery department hurried over, forcing a smile onto his face. “Dr. Lester, I’m Neville from neurosurgery.” He extended his hand. I didn’t shake it. He awkwardly withdrew it, rubbing his hands together. “We’ve been preparing for this surgery for three months. It wasn’t easy getting you here from New York, and the patient’s family…” “Neville,” I cut him off directly, “I’ll submit my recusal in writing.” He froze for a moment, then leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Dr. Lester, you may not understand the situation. This patient’s son is our associate director Wright, and his daughter-in-law is the former director Anderson’s daughter. If you just walk away like this, I won’t be able to explain it.” “That’s your problem.” I walked around him and continued toward the exit. Behind me, Neville took two steps forward, his tone becoming urgent. “Dr. Lester, at least give me a reason so I can respond to the family. Is there a problem with the surgical plan? Are you dissatisfied with our surgical conditions? Equipment, team, post-operative care—name your requirements and we’ll fully cooperate!” “I’m not dissatisfied with anything. The surgery itself is possible, but someone else needs to do it.” “Is it a cost issue then? The family said cost isn’t a problem. Name your price!” “It’s not about the money.” Before he could continue, I cut him off. “Neville, my decision won’t change.” Just before the elevator doors closed, Neville finally snapped out of it and pulled out his phone to make a call. Carlos followed me downstairs, jogging all the way to the parking lot. “Dr. Lester, what’s going on?” He blocked the car door, his forehead covered in sweat. “This isn’t like you. What surgery haven’t you taken on? You’ve encountered far more dangerous situations before. Today, just one medical record and…” “Carlos.” I looked at him. He stopped talking. “You’ve been with me for four years. Have you ever seen my hands shake during surgery?” “No.” “What if I told you that for this surgery, I’m certain my hands would shake from nerves?” Carlos frowned, hesitating to speak. “Neurosurgery can’t tolerate half a millimeter of error.” Twenty years. I spent twenty years making my hands absolutely steady. Even after twelve hours of continuous surgery, my margin of error never exceeds three millimeters. My colleagues all think I’m a precision instrument, unnaturally calm in any situation. But today, when I saw that name and that face, my heart still couldn’t remain calm. Twenty years ago, because of a half-centimeter error, my mother was left there forever. My phone vibrated. It was an unknown number. “Hello, Dr. Lester. I’m the patient’s family member. I heard you refused the surgery. Could we meet in person?” I didn’t know who sent this message, but I knew Wright must be among the family members. I didn’t reply. Soon, a second text came in: [For a doctor, the worst thing isn’t surgical failure—it’s refusing to save a life.]

“Dr. Lester, please wait! The former director’s daughter insists on meeting you in person no matter what!” Neville was now blocking my car directly, looking like he’d fight to the death to stop me. “Chris?” “You know her?” Of course I did. Wright’s wife, Director Anderson’s only daughter. Twenty years ago she was still a student, throwing her weight around the hospital because of her father’s position. “No, I’ve just heard the name.” Neville sighed. “This patient’s son Wright is Chris’s husband. He’s also our state’s neurosurgery… well, associate chief physician.” He chose his words carefully, speaking to me with great caution. “Dr. Lester, I know you must have your reasons. But if this blows up, it won’t be good for either of us. How about you don’t leave yet, and let the family come meet you first?” “I don’t need to talk anymore.” “Dr. Lester!” Neville was getting desperate now, leaning right up to my car window. “Dr. Lester, please listen. Chris and Director Wright’s family has excellent background and resources. Whatever concerns or conditions you have, you can state them. I’m sure they’ll do their best to accommodate you. But if I let you leave without a word today, whether it’s you or me, we’ll both have considerable trouble.” “Just consider it helping me out. Even if you just meet with the Anderson family and Director Wright once!” “Neville, I won’t take the case. Just report it up the chain. The hospital will coordinate another expert. Wouldn’t that be faster?” He gave a bitter smile. “You’re the top-ranked expert. If you refuse, the people after you won’t dare take it either.” I was about to reassure him when my phone rang. “Hello, is this Lester?” An unfamiliar female voice, but I didn’t need an introduction to know who it was. “I’m the patient’s daughter-in-law, Chris. I heard you refused to perform surgery on my father-in-law. I’d like to speak with you in person. Are you available tomorrow morning?” I struggled to suppress my emotions. When I didn’t speak, she continued. “Whatever you’re thinking, you looked at the file and left without any explanation. That doesn’t exactly follow protocol. Let’s meet?” “I’ll submit written documentation in a timely manner.” “Isn’t meeting faster than you submitting documentation? What is it you don’t dare discuss in person?” Chris’s tone was starting to carry anger. She thought I was just putting on airs. “Fine. I’ll come to the hospital again tomorrow.” My tone returned to calm. Perhaps it was time to settle certain things. “Good. My husband Director Wright and I will both come tomorrow.” “No problem.” Neville finally breathed a sigh of relief when I agreed. “Dr. Lester, see you tomorrow then!” He bowed slightly, then turned and left. I sat back down and glanced at Carlos. “Cancel the flight. I’m not leaving.”

Early the next morning, I arrived at the conference room to wait. Before long, a woman in a coat strode in purposefully. A man followed behind her, still with that composed demeanor. Even after twenty years, I could recognize him at a glance. I’d imagined countless scenarios of seeing him again, yet I still felt the urge to rush forward and settle things with him. “You’re Dr. Lester?” The woman scanned the room, her gaze finally settling on me. Neville quickly stood up. “Ms. Chris, this is Dr. Lester. Dr. Lester, this is…” “You’re Dr. Lester?” Chris interrupted him, walking straight up to me. She didn’t recognize me. The girl who cried herself unconscious outside the morgue twenty years ago bore little resemblance to the doctor who had published six authoritative neurosurgery papers. “Dr. Lester, what’s the meaning of this? You just decide not to do it? We confirmed the schedule with your team three days ago. The equipment is calibrated, the care plan is ready, and now you’re backing out?” “Ms. Chris, I already told Neville I’d submit a report.” “Submit what report?” She laughed. “You can perform far more difficult surgeries flawlessly, but this one scares you?” Wright saw the atmosphere turning sour and immediately tried to smooth things over. “Dr. Lester, I’m the patient’s son, Wright. I understand you may have your own considerations, but my father’s condition is truly urgent. If it’s about the cost…” “It’s not about the cost.” “Then what is it?” Chris slammed her bag on the table. Neville quickly stepped forward. “Ms. Chris, calm down. Dr. Lester may really be…” “She may really be what? A top neurosurgeon turns and walks away from a patient waiting to be saved?” She turned to stare at me. “Let me tell you something, Lester. My father may be retired, but he’s still an advisory committee member for Health and Human Services. One phone call and I can make you…” “Chris.” Wright grabbed her arm and lowered his voice. “Calm down.” Then he looked at me with an apologetic smile. I knew that smile well. Twenty years ago at the morgue entrance, he’d comforted me with the same expression: “Lester, you have to be strong.” Then he turned around and got engaged to Chris, while my appeal materials were sent back rejected. “Dr. Lester, I don’t know your real reason for refusing. But as a colleague, I believe you’re a person with medical ethics. My father…” I couldn’t listen to his words, so I spoke directly. “Dr. Wright, my decision won’t change because of anyone’s persuasion.” Chris’s face darkened completely. “Fine. You’re quite something. You’re the expert, you’re impressive. Well, let me tell you—tomorrow the state expert committee is meeting to discuss this. I hope you maintain this attitude.” She picked up her bag and dropped one more line as she turned. “The people I despise most in my life are those who gain a little skill and start putting on airs. Doctors saving lives is a given. It’s not your place to pick and choose.” Her heels clicked against the floor, the sound fading away. Wright hesitated for a moment, then spoke to me. “Dr. Lester, I apologize. My wife has a quick temper. Please think it over carefully. My number is always available.” Neville didn’t dare breathe until Wright left. “Dr. Lester, why put yourself through this? Even if you have concerns, you could discuss them properly…” “Neville, I do have my reasons. There’s no way I can perform this surgery.” “Alright then… You’d better prepare well for tomorrow. I’m afraid she won’t let this go.” I nodded and called for Carlos to prepare to leave. Whether Chris would let it go, I didn’t know. But tomorrow, I wasn’t planning to let it go either.

“Dr. Lester, your reason for not performing this surgery is?” The speaker was Pearson, deputy director of Health and Human Services. The next morning, the expert committee meeting. In attendance besides the hospital’s department heads were two representatives sent by Health and Human Services. “I cannot guarantee absolute composure during the operation.” “What do you mean you can’t guarantee it?” Pearson flipped through the materials in front of him. “Dr. Lester, I’ve reviewed your record. In the past three years, you’ve performed forty-seven high-difficulty surgeries with a one hundred percent success rate. How can you not be confident?” “This one, I’m not.” “Why?” I didn’t answer immediately. The other representative interjected. “Dr. Lester, we understand every doctor has their own judgment. But this case is rather special. The patient’s surgical window is very short. If you don’t take it, the patient’s survival rate is essentially zero.” “My personal refusal doesn’t mean there are no other options. You can contact other teams.” Pearson cleared his throat. “We’ve contacted them all. Only you have both the capability and the time.” “I can’t do it.” “Can’t do it and don’t want to do it are two different things, Dr. Lester.” The door was pushed open. Chris walked in, followed by Wright and an elderly man with a cane. The old man appeared to be in his seventies, his face waxy yellow but his back ramrod straight. “Director Anderson, why did you come?” Neville stood up. Anderson was his former supervisor. “It’s about Carter. I can’t not be involved.” Anderson slowly walked to the table and sat down, glancing at me. “Dr. Lester,” Anderson coughed lightly. “I worked at this hospital for forty years. Mr. Carter is my old partner, my old friend. His illness can’t be delayed.” “Director Anderson, I understand your feelings. But—” “Let me finish first.” He raised his hand, stopping me. “I know you’re a top expert from New York. Your time is valuable, your skills remarkable. But in this profession, the most important thing isn’t just skill.” He stared at me, his eyes cloudy yet sharp. “The most important thing is conscience.” Chris stood behind her father, her expression still cold and haughty. Wright sat nearby, his expression pained and earnest. “I’m refusing the surgery precisely because of my conscience.” “How so?” “Brainstem surgery has extremely strict requirements for the chief surgeon’s psychological state. Any emotional fluctuation could lead to intraoperative errors. I’ve assessed my own condition. I cannot remain absolutely calm.” “Are you saying you have personal feelings toward my father?” Wright frowned, his tone somewhat surprised. “Dr. Lester, to my knowledge, we should have no prior connection.” I looked at him. He looked at me, his gaze frank and without guilt. No connection. He didn’t recognize me, yet I’d remembered him for twenty years. “Whether there’s a connection doesn’t matter.” I took a light sip of tea. “What matters is that once I’m in the operating room, I cannot ensure one hundred percent focus. On that point alone, I shouldn’t take this case.” Pearson impatiently tapped the table. “Dr. Lester, let’s speak plainly. There is no regulation that allows a doctor to refuse surgery without reason. If you can’t find a clear recusal basis, this is dereliction of duty.” “Director Pearson, the Medical Practitioners Law…” “Don’t quote regulations at me.” He slammed his pen on the table. “Let me lay out the situation. Tomorrow, every major medical media outlet will follow this story. The top expert flies over a thousand miles to perform surgery, looks at the medical record, and walks away. Do you think that’s appropriate?” I didn’t speak. Chris stepped forward. “Dr. Lester, maybe my words yesterday were too harsh. I apologize. But think about it—if this gets out, that you refused to save a life, how will you live with yourself going forward?” Wright also stood up and bowed to me. “Dr. Lester, if my father and I have done anything to make you uncomfortable, I apologize. I also understand your concerns. How about this—we’ll double the surgical fee. For your peace of mind, I personally…” “Dr. Wright,” I interrupted him, “can you answer one question for me?” He froze, then nodded. “Please, go ahead.” “Your father practiced medicine for forty years. How many surgeries did he perform?” “Over a thousand. He was the founder of our state’s neurosurgery department.” Wright straightened his chest as he said this. “Of those thousand-plus surgeries, were there many failures?” The conference room atmosphere froze. Wright’s gaze didn’t waver, but he hesitated for a moment. “All surgeries carry risk. None can be one hundred percent successful.” “What happened to the families of the patients who didn’t make it?” “Dr. Lester, that has nothing to do with the current matter.” “Is that so.” I stood up and picked up my bag. “Then my refusal also has nothing to do with the current matter. Everyone, excuse me.” Behind me came Chris’s shrill voice. “Go ahead and leave! Once you leave, don’t think about coming back. I’ll let the entire industry know that New York’s Dr. Lester is someone who refuses to save lives!” I pushed open the door. Carlos still couldn’t help leaning close to my ear. “Dr. Lester, how about… you tell me the truth. Why won’t you do this surgery?” I turned to look at her. Three years ago, fresh out of graduate school, she’d sent out over a hundred resumes with no offers. I was the one who recruited her to the team. She trusted me and understood me. But this matter—I’d never told her. “Carlos.” “Yes.” “Twenty years ago, this hospital’s neurosurgery department had a man-made medical accident. The patient was named Charlotte.” Her expression slowly changed. “Charlotte… was she your…?” “My mother.” She froze, not knowing what to say. “The chief surgeon was Carter—the man now lying in a hospital bed waiting for me to save him.” Carlos stood there, unable to speak for a long time. “Prepare a formal recusal application for me. Tomorrow at the ethics committee meeting, I’ll explain it myself.” When I reached the main entrance, Carlos called out softly behind me. “Dr. Lester, would your hands… really shake?” I clenched my fist and sighed. “As long as that face appears in front of me, I can’t control it.”

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On Diana’s birthday, a woman who was my husband’s first love, I became the special guest without knowing what was in store. My husband Zachary Brown personally selected me to perform a high-altitude bungee jump. “I can’t do this…” Before I could finish, Zachary Brown pressed down on my shoulder and called two people over. “You don’t get a choice.” Just like that, I was forcibly dragged onto the high platform and strapped into crude bungee equipment. Looking at the crowd below, I trembled all over, my legs too weak to support me. I begged pitifully: “I’m afraid of heights. Please let me down.” But all I saw was Zachary Brown with his arm around Diana, laughing so hard they could barely stand. “Lily, you’re quite the actress. You used to climb trees to rescue cats. Now you’re playing the coward?” With that, he pressed the switch without hesitation. I screamed in terror. My heart raced faster and faster from the stimulation, then a sharp pain shot through me, and I plunged completely into darkness.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself floating in mid-air. I looked down wordlessly at everything below, including myself. Instantly, I realized I was dead. But Diana still wouldn’t let me go. She leaned against the railing, her face full of mockery. “Why’d you stop screaming? Did Xincheng call you out and now you’re too embarrassed?” Zachary Brown sneered: “She definitely feels humiliated. She’s playing dead.” “I want to see how long she can keep up this act. Turn up the intensity.” But I wasn’t pretending. I’d truly had a heart attack and died on that platform. The corpse on the bungee cord showed extreme terror—eyes wide open, face blue and purple. The mockery continued below. They laughed and joked, but no one was willing to come closer for a look. No one noticed that the person who’d been crying for help moments ago had already stopped breathing. Zachary Brown was right. I had climbed a tree before, just to rescue a cat stuck in its branches. But that was because the cat was a keepsake from my grandmother. Perhaps because I’d been silent for so long, Diana grew impatient and shouted at me: “Stop playing dead!” “If you ruin my birthday mood, can you afford to make it up to me?” Hearing this, my spirit form showed a sardonic smile. Whenever I didn’t do what they wanted, Diana would mock me like this about my poor background and lack of money. Zachary Brown quickly chimed in: “Stop this act. If you don’t move, you’ll spend the night up there!” As the machine operated, my corpse swayed with the rope, looking utterly pathetic, yet remaining completely silent. I floated beside everyone, shouting loudly that I was dead, but no one could hear me. Perhaps angered by my silence, Zachary Brown sneered and gave an order directly. “Set it to maximum power. Since you want to play, I’ll let you play to your heart’s content!” I wanted to stop Zachary Brown. I reached out, but my hand passed straight through his body. “This is such a buzzkill. I don’t want to watch her swing around on my birthday. Let’s find another place.” Hearing this, Zachary Brown put his arm around Diana’s waist and headed out. Seeing the main players leave, the others dispersed as well. Only a corpse remained, hanging from the high platform, mechanically swaying up and down under the machine’s operation. Watching Zachary Brown’s retreating back, my heart grew colder inch by inch. My eye sockets were empty—nothing could flow from them. That’s right. How could a soul have tears? Just as I thought I’d rot here until I scared the cleaning staff into screaming and the police would take over… An invisible force suddenly grabbed my soul. I couldn’t break free at all. I could only be forcibly dragged away from the terrace, floating in the direction Diana and Zachary Brown had gone. I was like a puppet on strings, involuntarily following their car through the streets and alleys, stopping outside the home Zachary Brown and I had lived in for five years. The house was Zachary Brown’s premarital purchase, but the decoration was all my work, done bit by bit with my own hands. Having lived here for five years, every corner held memories of him and me, and our son Ethan Brown. At this moment, I watched helplessly as Diana held Zachary Brown’s arm, chatting and laughing as they walked through the front door. Zachary Brown casually tossed aside his coat, rubbing his temples and complaining: “Today was fun, but Lily playing dead really killed the mood.” Diana naturally leaned against him. Her tone was gentle, but I could see the malice hidden in her eyes. “Don’t worry about her. If she’s in a bad mood, let her be. She’ll probably come back tomorrow. Don’t let her ruin yours.” Zachary Brown didn’t comment either way. He turned and went into the bathroom, not avoiding this childhood friend at all.

Diana, perhaps out of shame, didn’t follow him in after all. Instead, she walked over to my and Zachary Brown’s wedding photo. Back then, I believed Zachary Brown and I were truly in love. Holding his hand, I smiled so happily, my eyes full of hope for the future. Diana’s fingertips traced across my face, creating a grating sound as they rubbed against the glass protective cover. “Lily, you thought marrying him meant you won? Turns out I’ve been playing you like a dog.” From her resentful words, I learned everything. The “sister” was just Zachary Brown’s excuse. Diana was his first love. Unfortunately, after the SAT exams, the Brown family faced bankruptcy, so the two broke up and Diana went abroad. That’s when Zachary Brown and I met and got to know each other, going from rags to riches together. “You’re just a girl from the slums. What right did you have to marry him and bear Ethan Brown? But now that you’re dead, everything will return to its proper course.” Hearing this, I felt thunderstruck. So I’d been naive all along. Everything today was actually a carefully orchestrated murder plot by Diana! Everything today was never an accident—it was a kill scheme Diana had carefully set up! I knew Diana didn’t like me. From the moment she returned to the country six months ago, she’d been making things difficult for me at every turn. Because of my background, I was already unpopular in their circle. Her targeting made things even worse. Now everything was clear. She didn’t want Zachary Brown, but she couldn’t stand someone inferior to her taking him away. So she used the birthday party to set up the bungee jump, deliberately provoking me and driving me to my death. She had indeed succeeded. I was dead. “You thought Zachary Brown truly loved you?” Diana’s lips curled into mockery: “Back then, you were already his best option.” Learning that Zachary Brown had told Diana these things in bed as pillow talk, sadness swept over me like a violent wind. Over the years, countless people had told me he chose me because of my ordinary background—that I was obedient and easy to control. But I firmly believed Zachary Brown and I had love. Now with the fig leaf torn away, I thought of how Zachary Brown’s parents had shown disdain from the very beginning. They’d never accepted me. I couldn’t help but think of my son Ethan Brown. Did he also despise having my blood running through his veins? The bathroom door opened. Zachary Brown came out in a bathrobe. Seeing her staring at the wedding photo, he frowned. “Why are you staring at that photo?” Diana’s expression changed in a flash. She immediately hid the hatred on her face, took his hand, and said with a coquettish laugh that she wanted to take matching wedding photos. “If my parents hadn’t forced me onto that plane abroad, we’d be the ones in that photo.” At her words, Zachary Brown’s eyes flickered. He turned his head to avoid her gaze, his tone dismissive: “Don’t be ridiculous. I have a wife.” Then he pulled away from Diana’s hand and sat on the sofa to scroll through his phone. But he deliberately avoided looking at the wedding photo, making him appear both guilty and hypocritical. Watching this scene, I found it utterly ironic. I was already dead, and I now knew the vows before marriage and those five years of affection were all fake. Zachary Brown wanting to play the devoted, loyal husband now—this hypocrisy disgusted me even more than Diana’s malice.

Just then the door lock turned. Ethan Brown, awakened by the noise, walked in rubbing his eyes, calling out sweetly for Daddy and Aunt Diana. For the first time since becoming a soul, I felt this excited. I desperately floated toward him. I wanted to hold him. I was calling to him. But he couldn’t see me or hear me. He ran straight to Diana, hugged her legs, and asked: “Aunt Diana, where’s Mom? Why don’t I see her?” Diana, who usually had no patience for children, crouched down and coaxed him gently. “Mommy went to a friend’s house to play. She’ll be back in a few days.” Ethan Brown nodded like an obedient child. But I watched as he leaned close to Diana’s ear and asked softly: “Aunt Diana, now that the obstacle is removed, can you be my mom?” The obstacle he mentioned—was that me? No one knew how I felt at this moment. It was like a knife tip stabbing into my heart, then twisting back and forth. I never imagined my own son would wish for my death, see me as an obstacle between him and Diana. Diana smiled and nodded in response, then kissed his forehead. “Good boy. From now on, I’ll always be with you and Daddy.” Ethan Brown clapped happily: “That’s great! Mom always embarrasses me. I’ve wanted Auntie to be my mom for so long.” Zachary Brown heard everything clearly but remained unmoved, still looking down at his phone. I also recalled why I’d gone to Diana’s birthday party in the first place—thanks to my dear son. He’d begged and pleaded with me, saying I didn’t fit in with the other parents, which made his classmates ignore him too. If I didn’t go this time, his classmates would definitely laugh at him. It had all been a trap. He’d personally pushed me toward death. Hatred instantly engulfed me. My soul felt like it was being torn apart in pain. Perhaps my desire to leave had reached its peak. A powerful force suddenly erupted from within, and I actually broke free from the invisible control. The next second, my soul plummeted, returning to the area around my body. Inside the swaying garbage truck, I lay among piles of trash and discarded props that gave off a pungent stench. The driver’s conversation reached my ears: “This model prop looks so realistic, just like a real person. Let’s take it to the landfill and dump it.” So they’d mistaken my corpse for a discarded prop. No matter how much I screamed and shouted, no one could hear the sounds I made. I could only let the truck drive toward the garbage landfill. An hour later, the vehicle finally stopped. My corpse was roughly dragged out of the truck and thrown into the garbage pile. Flies swarmed around. Stray dogs prowled nearby. A huge garbage truck slowly approached. Trash poured down, completely burying the body. My consciousness fell into darkness once more. When I woke again, my soul was dragged by that force back home. In the living room, Zachary Brown and Diana were arguing, both looking terrible. “This is all your fault. Now Lily’s missing, and I won’t have a date for tomorrow’s banquet. Everyone will laugh at me!” Recently, he’d been busy with a new project. The client who could finalize the deal was a female CEO. Zachary Brown had told me this CEO always chose partners who were devoted family men. Not being able to attend this banquet would definitely leave a bad impression on her. No wonder Zachary Brown was so irritated. Diana retorted indignantly: “How was I supposed to know she’d get down from the platform herself and run away? How about I go with you?” “No way!” Zachary Brown flatly refused: “Not bringing anyone, I can still explain. But if I bring you…” He cut himself off, but I understood. He was afraid people would say he was having an affair.

Diana’s tears came instantly: “For you, I’ve become a mistress who can’t see the light of day. We even have to hide just to hold hands, and now you’re blaming me for venting my emotions…” Zachary Brown was always one to feel sorry for women. He didn’t last three seconds before surrendering. I floated nearby. For some reason, strong unease welled up in my heart. Time moved forward silently amid my anxiety. Until this day, when Zachary Brown’s phone rang. After taking the call, his expression changed dramatically. He grabbed his coat and rushed out. “Lily actually dared to kidnap Diana. I absolutely won’t let her get away with this!” He was certain I wasn’t dead. He was convinced the person the kidnappers on the phone called “Miss Li” was me. Zachary Brown frantically dialed my number, but it kept going to voicemail. “Since you’re so vicious, don’t blame me for punishing you.” He slammed the accelerator. The sports car had already sped far into the distance. I desperately chased after him, screaming at the top of my lungs for him not to go, but he couldn’t hear me. In the old residential complex, Zachary Brown kicked the door open and severely questioned my father who’d come at the noise. “Where’s Lily? Did she kidnap Diana? Hand her over!” My father looked completely confused, not understanding what he was talking about, but still tried to explain. “I was going to ask you where our Lily is. We haven’t seen her all day. Today’s my birthday. Every year she comes to spend it with me. How could she possibly have time to kidnap someone?” My mother looked worried, convinced I must have run into trouble. “That’s right. It’s this late and Lily still hasn’t come home. Something must have happened!” Unfortunately, Zachary Brown didn’t believe them. He shoved my father aside and rushed inside, ransacking the place, convinced my parents were harboring me. But he found nothing. In his frenzy, he grabbed my father by the collar and slammed him against the wall. My mother tried to stop him, but he pushed her away too. Her forehead hit the corner of a table, blood seeping out. “If you don’t hand her over today, I won’t be polite!” Zachary Brown, consumed by rage, had his bodyguards beat my elderly parents. Even as they were beaten black and blue, my parents refused to tell a single lie. They insisted bitterly that I could never do such a thing. “Don’t you know what kind of person our daughter is?” I floated nearby, watching them endure such torment while I could do nothing. My soul felt like it was about to shatter from the pain. I could only watch helplessly as my father, driven to desperation, pulled my mother to the window. “Zachary Brown, we’re not hiding Lily.” I screamed with all my soul not to, but they couldn’t hear me.

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To give my son a complete family, I endured Gideon’s three affairs. After the school’s Children’s Day family performance ended, he finally came clean with me. “While you were jumping around on stage in that mascot costume, I had her pinned against the curtain backstage.” “She’s shy, so she held back her voice. Then you tripped and fell, and she finally let out a moan.” Following his reminiscent gaze, I looked across at the woman handing out candy to the children. Her name was Lily, a student from a poor family I’d sponsored for four years until she became a preschool teacher. Just moments ago, she’d said to me with tears in her eyes: “Sutton, if Gideon ever treats you badly, I’ll be the first to stand up for you.” Gideon blocked my line of sight, his tone contemptuous. “Now it’s your turn to choose. Keep celebrating with our son… or like before, get a divorce?” I looked at my son throwing himself into Lily’s arms, and suddenly felt utterly disgusted. This rotten husband and son — I didn’t want either of them anymore.

“Why her of all people?” My hands trembled as I fought to keep my voice steady. Gideon just laughed lightly. “Sutton, don’t play dumb.” “Lily is young and vibrant. She understands me… All the women around you know how to act sweet better than you…” “Not like you, spending every day obsessing over the kid and nagging about trivial nonsense.” This self-righteous arrogance disgusted me more than the affair itself. “Mommy!” Seven-year-old Mason rushed over, clutching a handful of colorful candies. He stuffed the candy into his pocket and pointed at the lunch box I was carrying, complaining. “Mom, the lunch you made tastes awful. It’s all vegetables with no flavor at all.” Mason pouted and held up his candy like a treasure. “Lily’s candy is so sweet! She said she’ll bring me some every day from now on.” I looked at the cheap, dye-filled candy in his hand and reached to take it away. “Mason, your cough hasn’t healed yet. You can’t eat anything this sweet…” Mason pushed my hand away, his little face scrunched up as he hid behind Gideon, muttering under his breath. “Mom, are you going to make a scene about divorce again…” “Today is my special day. Can’t you just let me enjoy it?” Even my son had grown accustomed to calling my pain “making a scene.” I stood frozen in place, my whole body cold. Just then, Lily walked over with tears in her eyes. “Sutton, I’m sorry…” She bit her lower lip, her voice timid. “Gideon and I just got confused for a moment. Don’t blame him — it’s all my fault.” While crying, she naturally crouched down and pulled Mason into her arms, gently patting his back. “Don’t be scared, Mason. The adults will handle adult problems. Lily will always be on your side.” Mason hugged her neck tightly, nodding repeatedly. Right in front of several other parents, Gideon reached out and put his arm around Lily’s shoulders, half-sheltering her in his embrace. “Sutton Reed, today is Children’s Day. If you want to fight, do it at home.” I held back from making a scene until the crowd gradually dispersed. I reached out to take Mason’s hand and bring him home. But he forcefully shook me off and ran straight to Lily. He looked up at her, his eyes full of anticipation. “Lily, can you come to our house for dinner tonight?”

That evening, Gideon actually brought Lily home. Lily changed into a pair of pink bunny slippers — the ones Gideon had bought just a few days ago. When I’d asked him why he bought women’s size small slippers, he’d said the supermarket was having a sale and he’d grabbed them randomly. She walked into the kitchen like she owned the place and pulled fried chicken and sweet sauce from a bag. “Mason, come wash your hands! Your favorite fried chicken is here!” She smiled sweetly, but her eyes held a hint of provocation. “Gideon specifically told me Mason’s been craving this, so he asked me to bring some over.” I stood in the entryway, watching her naturally open the dish cabinet and take out plates and utensils. I suddenly realized Gideon had already given another woman a rehearsal of this home. At the dinner table, Mason ate with grease all over his mouth, not even glancing at the vegetables I’d made. “Mom’s food has no flavor at all. Lily’s food is so much better.” As he gnawed on a chicken leg, he proclaimed loudly. I frowned, looking at the dipping sauce. “Mason is allergic to peanuts. Does that sauce have peanut pieces in it?” Lily immediately put down her fork and knife and looked at Gideon with an aggrieved expression. “Sutton, I checked the ingredient list. There are absolutely no peanuts.” “Are you being too sensitive, or do you think I’d deliberately harm Mason?” Gideon reached out and ruffled Mason’s hair, his tone clearly dissatisfied. “Sutton Reed, stop being so paranoid all the time.” “It’s because you’re constantly on edge that you’ve raised the kid to be so fragile.” “Lily is a professional preschool teacher. Don’t you think she knows these things? Stop making mountains out of molehills.” Watching Gideon’s self-righteous attitude, watching their “happy family of three”… I found this meal impossible to swallow. After dinner, Lily voluntarily took over dishwashing duties. When I walked into the kitchen to get water, she was rolling up her sleeves, deliberately exposing an old silver bracelet on her wrist. The bracelet had a distinctive design with a small star charm dangling from it. It was my wedding anniversary gift from Gideon three years ago. I’d really liked it at the time and wore it for a long time, only putting it away after the clasp broke. “That bracelet…” I walked to the kitchen doorway, my voice tight. Lily continued washing dishes while saying softly: “Gideon said you don’t like these feminine things, that it was just gathering dust in a drawer, so he gave it to me.” Every sentence sounded like an apology, but every word was declaring her claim over this man. “That’s fine. You can wear it…” I walked out of the kitchen with my water glass. Gideon grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the balcony. He closed the sliding door, lit a cigarette, and looked at me coldly through the smoke. “Sutton Reed, I’m warning you — stop throwing divorce around so casually.” “Do you think divorce is some kind of fun game?” He exhaled a smoke ring and began recounting our three previous remarriages. “The first time, Mason had a high fever in the middle of the night. You couldn’t handle it alone and called me crying, begging me to come back.” “The second time, your mom’s high blood pressure sent her to the hospital. She needed someone to run around paying bills. Who did all that?” “And the third time… You can’t leave this home, and you can’t leave me.” “Lily is understanding and obedient. She won’t threaten your position. You’d better be smart and not make things worse.” Every time I’d softened, every compromise I’d made for the sake of our child and family, had become his ammunition to humiliate me today. Back in the bedroom, I opened the bottom drawer. Inside lay three divorce certificates, neatly arranged, along with three remarriage registration photos. In each photo, Gideon smiled with deep affection. And I, each time, had foolishly believed he’d truly changed. But it turned out he’d just grown more certain that I would never leave. Late that night, I got up for water and passed by the children’s room. The door was slightly ajar. Lily’s hushed voice came from inside: “Mason, if Mommy and Daddy really separate, who would you want to stay with?” I stopped in my tracks and held my breath. The room fell silent for a long time. Then I heard the son I’d risked my life to bring into this world say: “I want to stay with Daddy and Lily.”

Early the next morning, I took a shift-change request to the kindergarten principal’s office. I didn’t want Mason to continue staying in Lily’s class. I was afraid she would corrupt him. But the principal looked at my request with difficulty. “Sutton, actually Lily is quite attentive to Mason normally.” “Besides, I’ve heard from other parents that you manage the child too strictly. The kid is under a lot of pressure.” I froze. “Other parents?” Walking out of the office, several parents who were usually active in the group chat immediately surrounded me. “Sutton, it’s actually normal for young teachers to be close with children. Don’t be too sensitive.” “Exactly. Every mom struggles with childcare these days. If a teacher is willing to pay extra attention, you should count yourself lucky.” Only then did I understand — Lily had long ago painted me as a controlling woman in everyone’s eyes. Walking to the end of the hallway, Lily suddenly emerged from the storage room and cornered me. “Sutton, do you know why Gideon likes me?” I looked at her coldly. “Because you’re cheap enough.” She didn’t get angry. She said softly, “Gideon says I’m like you when you were young. But he also says you’ve become too boring.” She took a step forward. “Actually, Gideon has talked to me a lot about you.” “Like that college roommate of yours, and the postpartum caregiver when you were in confinement, and your former dance partner.” “Gideon said every one of them understood him better in bed than you do, knew better how to make him happy.” Lily laughed brightly. “Sutton Reed, you really are a failure as a person.” My brain exploded with a roar. All those years of what I’d thought were misunderstandings and coincidences had actually been humiliations Gideon left for me. At noon when I got home, I threw my bag hard onto the sofa and confronted Gideon, who’d just gotten off work. “Is what Lily said true?” “My college best friend suddenly going abroad, the postpartum caregiver bringing you soup in the middle of the night, my dance partner leaving the group chat — was it all because of you?” Gideon’s hand paused as he loosened his tie. He frowned impatiently. “Sutton Reed, what are you freaking out about? Those are all things from the past. Is it necessary to dig up old accounts?” He stepped closer to me. “Didn’t you always know what kind of person I am?” “All these years, haven’t you been the one clinging shamelessly to this family, insisting on giving the child a complete home?” Those years of what I’d thought were misunderstandings, what I’d thought were broken friendships — they’d all been Gideon’s chronic humiliation of me. That evening, Mason came home from school. He was carefully cradling a handmade award medal made from colored cardstock. As soon as he walked in, he shouted excitedly. “Daddy, look! Isn’t the medal I made pretty? On Friday, the class is having a family activity for me!” I walked over to look at his work. But he took a big step backward, clutching the medal protectively to his chest. “Don’t touch it! Don’t mess up the little flowers on top — Lily helped me paste them on.” My hand, frozen in midair, slowly withdrew. On the back of the medal, written crookedly in marker, was a line: Daddy, Me, Lily. Mason hugged the medal to his chest, glanced up at me, and added softly: “Mom, can you not come to Friday’s activity?” “I’m afraid if you come, you’ll get upset again and make Lily angry.”

I went to Friday’s family activity anyway. The classroom was decorated warmly and festively. Each child went onstage to display their drawing of “My Family.” When it was Mason’s turn, he proudly held up his drawing. I wasn’t in the picture. Only him, Gideon, and Lily. All the parents politely applauded. Lily, sitting in the front row, had tears in her eyes and covered her mouth, moved. The teacher hosting the activity looked somewhat awkward and asked gently, “Mason, who did you draw? Why didn’t you draw Mommy?” Mason clutched his shirt hem, his voice loud. “Mommy always controls me. She won’t let me eat candy or watch TV.” “Lily plays with me and buys me good food. I want Lily to be my mommy.” Children’s words cut the deepest. The classroom immediately filled with a few awkward laughs, with some parents making excuses that children don’t understand. I stood up and strode toward the stage, wanting to take Mason home. But Gideon suddenly grabbed my wrist from the side. “Sutton Reed, what are you doing?” In his eyes, even my heartbreak and grief had to happen at a time that wouldn’t embarrass him. I forcefully shook off his hand and rushed out of the classroom. Just as I reached the stairwell, Lily pretended to chase after me. “Sutton, don’t be angry with Mason…” While apologizing with her mouth, she forcibly stuffed a photo from the family activity into my hand. In the photo, Mason stood on his tiptoes kissing Lily’s cheek while Gideon stood beside them, smiling tenderly and indulgently. Lily leaned close to my ear. “Sutton, actually children are more honest than men. He knows who’s more suitable to be his mother.” “Forcing yourself to stay in this family will only make everyone miserable.” I crumpled the photo into a ball, threw it in a nearby trash can, and left the kindergarten without looking back. Shortly after I got home, Gideon returned with Mason. He walked straight to the coffee table, pulled a document from his briefcase, and pushed it heavily in front of me. It was a divorce agreement. “Sutton Reed, since everyone’s unhappy, let’s just divorce.” He leaned back on the sofa, his tone as calm as if discussing the weather. “You can keep living in this house temporarily, but custody of the child must go to me.” “You saw it yourself — Mason is very emotionally unstable right now. He can’t be separated from Lily’s care.” Looking at that neatly printed agreement, I suddenly found it absurdly ridiculous. I found it utterly absurd. “Gideon, you’re asking me to hand over both my husband and son to a mistress?” He frowned, his tone full of impatience. “Don’t make it sound so ugly!” “We’ve reached this point because you don’t know how to manage a family. Even the child rejects you — you can’t blame anyone else.” “Just sign it. Let’s part on good terms.” Mason hid behind Gideon’s legs, tightly hugging the teddy bear Lily had given him. I crouched down and looked at the son I’d carried for ten months, my voice trembling. “Mason, are you willing to come with Mommy? I promise from now on…” “I don’t want to!” Mason hugged the teddy bear even tighter, tears welling up in his eyes. He kept backing away, shouting at me through his tears. “Mommy, can you stop forcing me!” “I don’t want to choose you! I want to be with Daddy and Lily!” In that moment, I suddenly didn’t want to cry at all. I stood up, walked to the bedroom, and took out the three divorce certificates. And one more thing — a school transfer application I’d already stamped I’d already stamped. I pushed all these items in front of Gideon. Gideon looked at the transfer application, his expression finally changing, his brow furrowing tightly. “Sutton Reed, what do you mean? What game are you playing now?” I picked up the pen on the table and signed my name decisively. “It means this time, I’m not coming back.”

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Ethan and I had been together for five years, and he’d always been devoted. But right before our wedding, he suddenly cheated. The woman was named Mandy Smith, a pretty college student who looked like I did when I was younger. Afterward, his buddy asked him how it was. He smacked his lips and said: “Way more tender than Mira.” He sighed. “If I’d known young girls these days were this sexy, I wouldn’t have been so loyal. What a waste of those five years.” I accepted it all calmly. Then privately contacted that Mandy. On the wedding day, Mandy replaced me, putting on the wedding dress and walking onto the stage. The instant Ethan turned around, he lost his mind on the spot. After we set our wedding date, Ethan and I both got busy. I was busy planning the wedding, while he had to handle work matters in advance so he could take half a month off for our honeymoon. That day, I’d chosen two venue decoration proposals and went to his company to show him. Before knocking, I heard his disdainful voice. “Women really do lose their appeal when they get old.” “Someone like Mandy, now that’s just right.” I was confused, but vaguely felt that the old woman he mentioned was me. I pressed against the door crack to keep listening, and things gradually became clearer. “I stayed faithful to Mira for a whole five years. Now the wedding’s all set, but she still won’t let me touch her. I’m starting to regret marrying her.” His buddy laughed mockingly, using an extremely sleazy voice to ask him. “Since you think old women are boring, how was your little girlfriend?” Ethan narrowed his eyes slightly, his index finger rubbing the tip of his pen, savoring it for a moment. “Very tender. Way more tender than Mira. Can’t get enough every night.” He sighed. “If I’d known girls out there were this fun, I wouldn’t have been so loyal. What a waste of those five years.” Through the door crack, I saw his eyes filled with messy, unsatisfied desire. Completely different from his usual restrained appearance. Right now, he was like a pool of water—toss in a pebble and it would ripple endlessly. I clenched my fists, feeling my heart slowly drowning. Just as I gathered the courage to burst in and confront him. Mandy appeared. Mandy came out of Ethan’s private rest room. She wore a white shirt and pleated skirt, her face still carrying the lazy look of someone who’d just woken from a nap. Looking closely, she actually resembled how I looked back in my college days. “Ethan, you guys are still talking about the project?” The girl’s voice was sweet. Ethan didn’t answer, but his sticky gaze remained on her the whole time. “I need to get back to class, otherwise I’ll fail my finals and have trouble graduating.” “Mm, I’ll have the driver take you.” Ethan wrapped his arm around her waist, naturally dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Not like this, your friend is still here.” Though Mandy was shy, their waists and legs pressed close together. They say online that this kind of body language often represents physical attraction. Besides that, there were their reluctant gazes, hands that couldn’t separate, the goodbye with three backward glances. So sweet. If only I weren’t Ethan’s fiancée.

When Mandy came out, I was sitting at Ethan’s assistant’s desk. She saw me, wary and confused. “Didn’t Ethan say no one could come up without his permission?” I smiled and said: “The driver’s out on an errand. Ethan asked me to take you back to school.” She relaxed and followed behind me, getting into my car. “Wow, you drive such a nice car for an assistant?” The girl probably hadn’t seen much of the world. Though this car had a Mercedes logo, it was only worth about three hundred thousand. But I didn’t call her out on it. I said, “Ethan’s generous. Work for him long enough, and everyone gets good benefits.” “You’ve been with Ethan for a long time?” “Five or six years. We used to be classmates. He thought I was capable, so he kept me on.” I looked at the girl’s curious eyes through the rearview mirror. The next second, she leaned forward as expected, asking me more private questions. “Then you must have met his wife.” I answered flatly, “Ethan doesn’t have a wife yet. That person is his fiancée at most.” The corners of the girl’s mouth curved up in delight, and she asked again, “So what’s his fiancée like?” “Which aspect do you mean?” “Age, education, family, job.” “She’s twenty-eight, bachelor’s degree, single-parent family, teacher.” “Sounds pretty ordinary.” She pouted. “Plus she’s almost thirty, already past the optimal childbearing age. How’s she supposed to give Ethan children later?” My hands on the steering wheel suddenly tightened. I hadn’t expected such words to come from a college student’s mouth. Apparently reproductive education still needed further promotion. After a few seconds of silence, I continued the conversation. “She probably won’t have children for Ethan.” Mandy’s full, plump lips opened and closed, letting out an exclamation. “Why not!” “Because of you. Knowing Ethan as I do, he likes you so much, he might not marry that fiancée after all.” “Really! Can you keep me updated on this?” “Sure.” I said. When Mandy got out of the car, she deliberately took off her jacket. Only then did I see the red marks all over her neck and arms. Perhaps my gaze was too intense, because Mandy embarrassedly put her jacket back on. “Mira, stop looking. It’s embarrassing.” I withdrew my gaze and asked gently: “Does it hurt?” She looked aggrieved, pursing her lips. “It hurts a lot. He’s always so rough, and I don’t dare refuse him.” “Next time Ethan does this, bite his shoulder and tell him you’re uncomfortable. That way he won’t force you.” “How do you know all this?” I leaned close to her ear and smiled. “His fiancée told us when we were gossiping.” Mandy covered her mouth and giggled. “Mira’s so nice~ I’ll try that at home next time.”

After dropping off Mandy, I sent Ethan a message telling him to have dinner on his own tonight. Then I switched back to my Bentley and headed straight to the wedding house Ethan and I shared. I wanted to see if the “home” Mandy mentioned was this place. Ethan had decorated the wedding house a year ago. He kept refusing to tell me the password, saying he wanted to surprise me on our wedding night. 970613, my birthday. “Beep, incorrect password.” 950831, Ethan’s birthday. “Beep, incorrect password.” 200225, our dating anniversary. “Beep, incorrect password.” … For the last attempt, I tried the birthday I’d just gotten from Mandy. 051113. “Beep, door unlocked.” Even though I’d already guessed the outcome, when it was confirmed, I still felt pain so intense I could barely breathe. When I lifted my foot, my steps were messy, and I collapsed beside the entrance cabinet. Two pairs of slippers were neatly arranged there. By the looks of it, they came here often. I wandered around the house for a long time. Matching toothbrushes, matching pajamas, matching toys—everything you could want, warm and romantic. Entering the master bedroom, I discovered the bedroom actually had a mirrored ceiling. I remembered once watching a foreign romance film with Ethan. The male lead’s bedroom had a similar design. At the time, he’d leaned on my shoulder, breathing in my ear, begging me to try it with him someday. “Doing it in bed while looking in the mirror, wouldn’t that be interesting?” I’d always been cautious about these things, but thinking that Ethan and I would become husband and wife, this kind of activity could add some spice. That time, I’d rarely given in. I just never expected he’d still remember, and actually made it into a surprise for me. The mirror overhead reflected the devastation in my eyes. It was strange—it should have been the most pleasant autumn weather, but staying in this room, I felt damp and sticky. I could even smell the salty, fishy scent lingering in the air. I almost threw up. My brain warned me I needed to leave immediately. But just then, the door suddenly opened. Heavy panting flooded the entire house as the door opened. In my panic, I could only hide in the study off the master bedroom. The study only had a desk. Ethan was highly sexual; he’d never waste time in here. “Ethan, isn’t today a bit too much~” “Don’t talk.” Mandy immediately went silent, even her moans sounding suppressed. After just a few moments, she cried out in pain. “I’m sorry Ethan, it hurts too much.” Ethan didn’t stop. He kept going. One minute, two minutes. My stomach churned even worse, and my head felt dizzy. I bit down hard on my own arm, keeping myself conscious, also punishing myself for being so pathetic. I couldn’t understand what made me choose to trap myself here. From the moment they walked through the door, I should have caught them in the act. One slap each to vent my fury. But that seemed too easy on them. Or perhaps my feelings for Ethan made me afraid to face his betrayal directly. After all, because I insisted on refusing premarital sex, he’d willingly stayed faithful for five years. Amid the intense sounds of collision, Ethan suddenly hissed. “Who told you to bite me!” “Ethan, I’m uncomfortable. Can you be gentler~” Mandy’s voice was soft and tender, the kind that would make anyone’s heart soften. Ethan was no exception. He paused, then said gently, “Whatever you want.” That familiar tone, that familiar inflection. Ethan hadn’t said those words to me in a long time. I vaguely remembered the last time he said this to me was half a year ago. That time, Ethan had been drugged during a business negotiation. To prevent himself from doing something wrong, he called me to his side to watch over him. He soaked in the bathtub’s cold water, his body trembling constantly, yet his complexion was flushed unnaturally. I went to the bar to get him water. When I turned around, Ethan pounced on me like a wild beast out of control. I knew he couldn’t control himself, but I didn’t want to compromise either. In my panic, I bit down directly on his collarbone. Blood mixed with water dripped down, spreading across the white carpet. Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot, his pupils suddenly contracting. “I’m sorry Mira, I wasn’t thinking straight.” I got dressed and pushed him back into the bathtub. Seeing me remain silent, he apologized to me over and over. “I’m sorry, Mira, I didn’t mean to.” “Mira, don’t ignore me. I can’t control myself.” Like a killjoy parent, I once again emphasized my aversion to premarital sex. He looked like a drowned dog, lightly hooking my hand and saying those words. “Whatever you say.” “I’ll do whatever you want.” … I didn’t know when the sounds in the bedroom stopped. I heard the front door open and close twice, one after the other. Following that was Ethan’s message. “Mira, where are you? I miss you.” Mandy also gave me feedback. “Mira, what you said really worked! The way Ethan looked at me was completely different.” I replied to her, “Really? Guess the rumors are true.” “What rumors? That Ethan wants to call off the wedding to marry you.”

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At three in the morning, I was dead to the world when Gavin suddenly ripped the covers off me and dragged me out of bed. His words tumbled out in a frantic rush—he said I was O-negative, that Brooke was hemorrhaging, and the hospital’s blood bank was completely tapped out. I winced, rubbing my eyes, and told him I was severely anemic. My body couldn’t handle a blood donation. He didn’t listen. He just started shoving my arms into my winter coat, rushing me toward the door, insisting they only needed a pint and that Brooke was fading fast. Sitting in the passenger seat of his SUV, the streetlights blurring into streaks of yellow against the dark glass, the name Brooke acted like a physical barb in my chest. Instantly, it dragged me back to the darkest, bloodiest memory of my high school years. She was the ringleader. The girl who tormented me, who ultimately shoved me down a flight of concrete stairs, shattering my leg and permanently robbing me of my future in dance. It was Gavin who had called the police back then. Because of him, the school couldn’t just sweep it under the rug. Brooke was expelled, and she practically vanished from the earth. I never imagined that seven years later, I would hear her name in Gavin’s mouth again—and certainly not like this. I turned my head to look at his sharp profile. I asked him if he remembered the months I spent in the hospital during my junior year. He stiffened. His eyes darted away from mine, fixing on the road. He muttered that Brooke hadn’t had an easy life these past few years, and at the end of the day, a life was a life. A hollow, broken laugh escaped my lips. I didn’t say another word. Later, the moment the thick needle pierced the vein in my arm, a sharp, electronic chime echoed directly inside my skull. A synthesized voice spoke. It told me that even though I was currently playing the role of the tragic heroine in a cheap melodrama, I still needed to respect my own body. It told me I had to learn how to say no. I flinched, my breath hitching. In a terrified whisper, I asked it what I was supposed to do. The electronic voice instantly spiked in volume, ordering me to pull the IV needle out right this second, walk out the front doors, take a left, and spend twenty bucks on a lottery ticket. 1. I stared at the plastic tubing taped to my inner arm, my hand shaking violently. The System urged me in my head. “Pull it out! Trust me!” But I was terrified. If I pulled it out, how would Gavin look at me? Would he think I was a monster? Would he think I was selfish? Would he… leave me? The glare of the hospital lights overhead was blinding. It reminded me of the lights from seven years ago. I had been lying in a pool of my own blood, watching Brooke’s silhouette disappear at the top of the stairs. When the paramedics finally arrived, the ER doctor had looked at my charts and said, “Compound fractures. I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re never going to dance again.” Gavin was the one who stayed by my side. He came to the hospital every single day. He held my hand through the agonizing physical therapy, told me terrible jokes to make me smile through the tears. I remember him brushing the hair from my sweaty forehead, whispering, “It’s okay, June. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be right here.” Because of that, for the five years we had been together, he had been my entire universe. I painted for him, I cooked his favorite meals, I waited by the window for him to come home. I bent my life to fit into the spaces he left for me. And now, he was forcing me to bleed for the girl who broke me. “Do it now!” the System commanded. I squeezed my eyes shut, gripped the plastic hub of the needle, and ripped it out. Dark crimson blood immediately welled up and spilled over my skin. A nurse down the hall shrieked and started running toward me. The door slammed open. Gavin froze in the threshold. “June, what the hell are you doing?!” I looked up at him. For the first time in my life, I found the strength to say, “I don’t want to do this.” “You…” The color drained from his face, replaced by a dark, furious disbelief. “Do you realize she is dying in there?” “I know.” I stood up. My bad left leg trembled under my weight, the old aches flaring, but I locked my knee and held my ground. “But I’m dying too.” He reached out to grab my arm. I flinched away. As I limped out of the ER, his voice cracked like a whip down the tiled hallway: “You are being incredibly selfish, June!” I didn’t look back. The air outside the hospital was bitter cold. The wind bit into my bad leg, making a deep, familiar ache settle in the bone. “Fifty yards to your left. There’s a bodega that sells lotto tickets,” the System instructed. I dragged my leg down the sidewalk. As I passed the wing where Brooke’s room was, I looked up and saw a lit window on the third floor. My heart slammed against my ribs. Seven years. I thought I had buried that terror. But just looking at the glass, my mind was flooded with the sensation of freefall, the sickening crack of my bones on the concrete. I clamped a hand over my mouth, bile rising in my throat. 2. The guy behind the counter at the bodega raised an eyebrow as I bought a twenty-dollar scratch-off. “Late night for a walk, hon, especially with that limp.” I just nodded, keeping my eyes down. “You’re going to win five million dollars,” the System said matter-of-factly. I didn’t believe it, but I clutched the ticket anyway. On the walk back to our apartment, my phone vibrated constantly. Gavin. I let it ring. When I finally reached our front door, he was already there, leaning against the frame, radiating anger. “What is wrong with you tonight?” he snapped. “Brooke almost died. Do you get that?” “I have anemia.” I stared at his shoes. “I could have died, too.” “It was a single pint of blood, June, it wouldn’t have killed you!” His voice echoed in the quiet hallway. “You just couldn’t bring yourself to help her!” I stopped talking. What could I even say? Tell him I was terrified of her? Tell him my leg throbbed with a phantom agony every time her name was spoken? Tell him I wished, just once, he would look at my frail, broken body with the same desperate panic he had just shown for her? The words wouldn’t come. Seeing my silence, his jaw tightened. “Fine. Play the victim.” He shoved past me, got back into his car, and drove off. I sat alone in our dark living room. The streetlights cast the shadows of the large oak tree outside across the hardwood floor, swaying like ghosts. Seven years. From the day my leg was shattered until now, that tree had shed its leaves seven times. And I was still trapped at the bottom of the staircase. “You did the right thing,” the System murmured. “Nothing is more important than your own survival.” But my chest felt like it was caving in. The next morning, I scratched the ticket. I held my phone in one hand, comparing the numbers, my fingers trembling so badly I almost dropped it. Five million dollars. It was real. “See?” the System said, sounding deeply smug. “I told you. This is the down payment on your new life.” I stared at the iridescent foil shavings on my kitchen counter, completely speechless. Gavin didn’t come home for the next three days. He sent one text: “I’m at the hospital with Brooke. Her condition is unstable.” I replied: “Okay.” He didn’t text back. I opened the leather-bound journal I kept in my nightstand. The pages were filled with my meticulous, desperate handwriting, documenting every late night he’d had over the past six months. October 3rd. Said he was working late at the firm. Came home at 2 AM. October 10th. Client dinner. Home at 1 AM. October 18th. Said an employee was hospitalized, went to check on them. Never came home. I read the lines, one by one. A strange, broken giggle bubbled up in my throat, but the tears fell faster than the laughter could form. Outside the window, the oak leaves were falling again. I remembered how he had held my waist during physical therapy, promising he would be my crutch forever. Now, he wouldn’t even come home to sleep in our bed. The System paused, recalibrating. When it spoke again, the electronic hum was softer, tinged with a strange, synthetic sorrow. “He changed, June.” Listening to its awkward, robotic empathy, I nodded slowly. “I know.” That evening, Gavin finally texted: “Brooke is being discharged tomorrow. I’m going to pick her up.” I stared at the glowing pixels. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard before typing: “Can I come with you?” Sent. One minute passed. Three minutes. Five. He left me on read. 3. I went to the hospital anyway. He didn’t stop me from getting in the car, but he didn’t welcome me, either. The drive was suffocatingly silent. When we walked into the ward, the heavy stench of antiseptic made my stomach churn. I pressed my hand over my nose and mouth. It was the exact same smell from seven years ago. Lying in that stark white bed, the orthopedic surgeon looking down at me with pity. “Comminuted fracture of the left femur and tibia. The joint is irreparably damaged. She won’t dance again.” I had screamed until my throat bled. I had been dancing since I was a toddler. My mother used to brush my hair and tell me, “June is going to be the most beautiful prima ballerina in the world.” Brooke shoved me down the stairs, and the music stopped forever. “We’re here,” Gavin said, stopping abruptly. I looked up. Brooke was standing in the doorway of her private room. She was drowning in an oversized hospital gown, her face pale, looking agonizingly fragile. My bad leg buckled slightly, a tremor radiating up my spine. Cold sweat broke out across my neck. It felt like the ceiling was slowly crushing me. It was her. It was really her. Seven years, and she still had the exact same face. My mind flashed to her cruel, glittering smile as she stood over me. “Trash belongs in the gutter.” I remembered the sharp point of her stiletto grinding into my knuckles. The sudden, violent force of her hands on my shoulders. I couldn’t breathe. “June?” Gavin noticed my pallor and instinctively reached out to steady me. “What’s wrong?” I couldn’t form words. Brooke saw me. She froze for a fraction of a second before a soft, deeply apologetic smile bloomed on her face. “June… about everything that happened back then… I’m so sorry.” She took a hesitant step forward, reaching out as if to take my hand. I recoiled violently. She dropped her hand, looking utterly heartbroken. “June, do you still hate me? I know I was wrong. We were just kids, I was so stupid and mean… but life has punished me. I’ve eaten dirt for the last seven years. I think about what I did to you every single day…” As she spoke, tears welled up in her large, doe-like eyes, spilling over her pale cheeks. Gavin sighed, a heavy, protective sound. “June, Brooke already owned up to her mistakes.” Brooke? Since when did he drop her last name and say it with such tender familiarity? Brooke aggressively wiped at her eyes, her voice trembling. “June, I know you despise me. But I’ve changed, I swear. All these years, working bottle service at seedy clubs, letting disgusting men grope and humiliate me… every time they put their hands on me, I thought of you. I told myself it was karma. I deserved it.” Gavin’s eyes softened completely. The hardness in his jaw melted away. I looked back and forth between them. I felt a hysterical urge to laugh. The System’s voice crackled sharply in my head. “Do not buy a word of this. She is acting.” I know. But no one else believed me. After he finished the discharge paperwork, Brooke reached out and grabbed Gavin’s sleeve. “Thank you for taking care of me these past few days.” Her hands were delicate, her nails painted a soft, innocent pink. Gavin didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted his grip. I watched his fingers lace through hers. Right there in the hospital corridor, in front of the nurses, in front of God, in front of me, their fingers intertwined. My crippled leg flared with a blinding, white-hot agony. 4. Walking down the hospital steps, my knee finally gave out. I stumbled forward, bracing for impact. Gavin didn’t catch me. He was too busy holding the door for Brooke. Brooke, with four perfectly functioning limbs, practically skipped to the passenger side of his SUV and pulled the door open. I stood on the pavement, frozen, staring at the empty space in front of me. It wasn’t until Gavin looked over, a crease of annoyance between his brows, that the spell broke. “Are you getting in or what?” Brooke suddenly gasped, covering her mouth as she shot me a sickly-sweet, apologetic smile. “Oh my gosh, June, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot this is your seat. It’s just… I get terrible motion sickness in the back. Do you mind if I take shotgun?” She pressed her palms together in a pleading gesture, giving me a playful little wink. Numb, I dragged myself into the back seat. My entire body was shaking violently. All I could see was their laced fingers. Brooke glanced at me in the rearview mirror, her eyes wide with faux concern. “June, are you cold? Why are you shaking so much?” My breath caught. Suddenly, I wasn’t in the car anymore. I was back in the dim, damp locker room behind the gym seven years ago. Brooke had been smiling that exact same sweet smile as she gripped my hair, forced my school shirt off, and used a black Sharpie to write “MUTT” across my chest. She had asked me the exact same question then: “June, are you cold? Why are you shaking so much?” My fingernails dug so hard into my palms that they broke the skin. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth where I had bitten the inside of my cheek. Brooke was still talking. “June, I get the feeling you really… hate me. And it’s totally fair! I hate the person I used to be, too. If I could, I’d become your servant just to make up for the pain I caused you.” Her eyes were the picture of earnestness. I still couldn’t speak. It felt like someone had shoved a fistful of raw cotton down my throat. Gavin let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s just an old condition she has. Don’t worry about it.” He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Mixed in with a superficial layer of concern was an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher—annoyance? Pity? Resentment? The drive home was suffocating. I remained mute in the back, Gavin drove in silence, while Brooke effortlessly filled the dead air, playing the charming, reformed survivor, telling self-deprecating stories about her struggles in the service industry. Gavin listened, a faint, fond smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were heavy with a protective ache for her. He dropped me off at our apartment first. He looked at my deathly pale face, and his tone cooled, tinged with a deep exhaustion. “Brooke is still really weak. I need to get her settled at her place.” I nodded slowly. “Okay.” “Just go upstairs,” he said, not even looking me in the eye. “I’ll be back later.” “Oh,” I whispered. I stood on the curb, the cold wind whipping my hair, and watched his taillights disappear down the avenue. “She’s manipulating you, and she’s manipulating him,” the System said. I wrapped my arms around myself. “Maybe you’re reading too much into it?” “I am an advanced algorithm, June, I don’t ‘read into things’!” the System snapped. “She is putting on a masterclass in gaslighting!” “Maybe… maybe she really did change?” I sat on the floor of my living room, pulling my knees to my chest. “People grow up.” “You—” The System cut off, too frustrated to formulate a response. I spent the afternoon in my makeshift art studio. I tried to paint. I tried to paint the girl from seven years ago, in her white tulle skirt, standing center stage under the hot lights. But I couldn’t get it right. Every time I painted the left leg, it came out crooked. Broken. Bent at an unnatural angle. I hurled my brushes across the room and buried my face in my arms on the desk. Outside, the oak tree had lost the last of its leaves. Gavin didn’t come home until ten o’clock that night. “Is Brooke feeling better?” I asked quietly from the couch. “She’s okay.” He shrugged off his jacket. It smelled heavily of cheap cigarette smoke. “She lives in this dump of a studio. It’s really rough on her.” I wanted to scream. What about me? I sat in this empty apartment all day waiting for you. Is that not rough on me? But I swallowed the words. I was terrified of making him angry. “Say it!” the System yelled in my head. “Scream at him! Call him a bastard, call him a narcissist, call him a piece of shit!” “You are his fiancé! You have every right to demand to know why he’s prioritizing the woman who crippled you!” I shook my head imperceptibly. I was afraid if I pushed him, he’d roll his eyes and call me petty. I was afraid he’d say: Look at you. You’re not even half the woman Brooke is. I was terrified of losing him. After the year of relentless bullying, after being pushed down those stairs, I had developed severe clinical depression. My self-worth was practically non-existent. I didn’t dare speak up. I just turned the knife inward, asking myself over and over: Am I being too sensitive? Should I just be the bigger person and forgive her? Around midnight, as we lay in bed, his phone lit up on the nightstand. It was a text from Brooke: “Gav, I’m feeling really dizzy…” He threw the covers back and sat up instantly. “I need to go check on her.” Over the System’s deafening, screeching alarm in my head, I forced the words past my lips. “Can you… not go?” He paused, one arm in his sweater. “Just get some sleep, June. I’ll be back soon.” “Can I come with you, then?” Gavin exhaled sharply, a sound dripping with condescension. “I am just checking on her to make sure she doesn’t pass out. It’s basic human decency. Could you please stop being so paranoid? Your leg is bad enough, you don’t need to be dragging yourself out into the cold.” And then he walked out. I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. A single tear slipped out of the corner of my eye, tracking hotly into my hairline. The System let out a long, static-laced sigh. It didn’t say another word. 5. After Gavin left, the silence in the apartment was deafening. I couldn’t sleep. I dragged myself out of bed and limped into the studio. On the easel sat my half-finished canvas. The stage, the bright spotlights, the faceless audience in the dark. And the girl in the white dress. I stared at her twisted, broken leg. A sudden, violent sob ripped from my throat. I grabbed a palette knife and slashed it across the canvas, right over the leg. It wasn’t enough. I ripped the canvas off the frame. I grabbed the sketches off the wall. I tore the second one, then the third, ripping the heavy paper into shreds. The studio floor was soon buried in torn paper and snapped pencils. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down until I hit the floorboards, my leg throbbing in relentless agony. The System shrieked, “Stop it! June, breathe! Stop hurting yourself! Put your hands down!” I couldn’t calm down. Brooke was back. And this time, Gavin hadn’t stood in front of me like a shield. He had stepped out of the way to catch her instead. The nightmare from seven years ago was playing on a loop, and I was trapped inside it. I fumbled for my phone and dialed Gavin. It rang out. I called again. Voicemail. I called him fifteen times. Finally, a text came through: “Brooke’s running a fever. I’ll be home when I can.” I stared at the glowing blue bubbles. A laugh ripped out of me, harsh and jagged. A fever. She had a fever, so she needed him to hold her hand through the night. What about me? I was drowning, suffocating on the floor of our home. Where was he? I typed: “I’m hurting too.” He replied instantly: “Take some Tylenol and go to sleep.” Nothing else. I let the phone slip from my fingers. It clattered against the wood. Through the studio window, the city skyline glittered against the dark, alive and careless. But I felt totally consumed by the blackness. Just like that night seven years ago, bleeding out on the cold concrete, the darkness pressing in from all sides. I pulled my knees to my chest, curling into a tight ball in the corner. My bones ached. My heart felt like it was tearing down the middle. “Stop crying,” the System whispered. “I’m not crying,” I lied. But the tears poured down my face, hot and relentless. The System let out a soft, humming sigh. “I ordered you some flowers.” I looked up, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “What?” “Sunflowers,” its voice was incredibly gentle now, stripped of all its electronic edge. “It’s a shame I’m just lines of code. If I had arms, I’d try to hug you right now.” I sat there, stunned. After a long time, I whispered, “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me,” it replied. “You need to learn how to love yourself.” “He is not your savior, June. Only you can save you.” Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. It was a delivery courier. A massive bouquet of bright, golden sunflowers. Nestled among the heavy petals was a small card. It read: You deserve to be fiercely loved. Holding the flowers to my chest, the dam broke, and I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe. The weight of the sunflowers was heavy and real in my arms. I traced the edge of a golden petal and whispered into the empty room, “Are you disappointed in me?” It took a moment, but the System’s voice returned, sounding slightly muffled. “Yes.” “But June, you are just sick right now. And people can heal.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440962”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The wedding was supposed to start in ten minutes. I was standing in the bridal suite, drowning in a sea of white tulle and pure, unadulterated joy, when my brother, Luke, suddenly looked at me with a deep scowl. He told me I was heartless. Before I could even process the venom in his voice, Parker, my fiancé, reached up and unbuttoned his custom tuxedo jacket. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I’m sorry, Sadie. We can’t do this today. The wedding is off.” Panic flared in my chest. I reached out, my fingers trembling as I grabbed the hem of Parker’s jacket, begging them both to stop. I told them this was a sick joke, and it wasn’t funny. Parker just sighed, looking at me with a mixture of pity and disgust. He asked me if I ever spared a thought for the girl whose life I had destroyed while I was casually dropping hundreds of thousands of dollars on a fairytale wedding just to show off. I froze, my mind going blank. He kept going, his voice cutting through the air. “You got Lexi expelled back in high school. You ruined her life. Do you have any idea how hard she’s had it all these years because of you?” Hearing Lexi’s name was like a physical blow. I stood there, paralyzed. She was the one who had bullied me. She was the reason I had to take a leave of absence, the reason I spiraled so deep into depression that I almost ended my own life. The jagged, ugly scars across my wrists—the ones Parker used to trace with tears in his eyes, promising to protect me forever—seemed to burn. Inside my bridal clutch was a positive pregnancy test, a surprise I had planned to give him today. Now, looking at his cold face, it felt like a cruel cosmic joke. … Parker wouldn’t stop talking, and every time he mentioned Lexi, his eyes filled with an undeniable, aching tenderness. “Her family didn’t have money, Sadie. After she was expelled, she had to work illegal, grueling jobs just to survive.” He stepped closer, his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “You’ve been pampered your whole life. How could a girl like you ever understand what a beautiful, defenseless young woman has to endure in this world just to get by?” Dizziness washed over me. None of this felt real. I stared at him, my voice small and shaking. “Parker… she tormented me. I begged Luke to report her to the school board because I couldn’t breathe anymore. You supported me back then. You knew…” “Enough!” Luke snapped, cutting me off. The harshness of his shout made my eyes sting instantly. Our parents died when we were kids. Luke was the one who had held my hand at their graves and sworn to spend his life taking care of me. To make enough money to give me a good life, he had worked himself to the bone, destroying his kidneys in the process. I had secretly gone through the donor matching process and gave him one of my kidneys, keeping it a secret from everyone. I had only ever seen my big brother cry once. It was when he found out about the kidney. He had broken down, hugging me so tight my bones ached, whispering, Sadie, I will protect you for the rest of my life. I guess a lifetime is much shorter than I thought. Luke pulled out his phone and shoved a picture in front of my face. It was a hospital room. A woman lay on the bed, emaciated and pale as a ghost. Parker was sitting by her side, holding her hand with an intimacy that shattered my heart. “Do you know that Lexi developed severe depression after what you did?” Luke demanded. “Look at her. She’s living a waking nightmare, and you, the person responsible for it all, have the nerve to throw yourself a million-dollar wedding?” I looked at the face in the photo. It was the face that had haunted my nightmares for a decade. Reflexively, I took a step back, knocking the phone out of Luke’s hand. A cold sweat broke out across my skin. “No!” I whispered. The word that wanted to follow was I’m sorry. Because back then, I wasn’t allowed to fight back. That was the rule Lexi had hammered into me. The first time she targeted me was over a pair of shoes. Lexi was the queen bee, showing off her brand-new designer sneakers to a crowd of girls in the dorm. But another girl, eagle-eyed and blunt, looked at my feet and spoke up. “Wait, Sadie’s are the real deal. Lexi, yours look like knockoffs.” I had tried to laugh it off and make an excuse to save Lexi’s pride, but she just stood there, her face dark and silent. Later that night, I was distracted, putting on my sneakers to go to the library. A blinding, white-hot pain shot through my foot. I looked down. Two thumbtacks were lodged deep in the sole of my foot, slick with blood. Terrified, I had gone to Lexi to apologize, practicing my words all night. But when I found her, she just smirked at me, looking me up and down. “I never noticed how big your boobs are, Sadie. Do you let guys feel them up all the time?” She sneered. “I mean, how else does an orphan with no parents afford shoes that expensive?” The surrounding girls erupted in laughter. No matter how much I explained that my brother bought them for me, the narrative was set. From that day on, the entire school “knew” that I had an older, wealthy benefactor who was definitely not my brother. The suffocating shame of that memory rushed back to the present. My hands gripped the expensive fabric of my wedding dress, crushing it into a ruined heap. Seeing me like this, a flicker of guilt finally crossed Parker’s face. He reached out, gently wiping a tear from my cheek. “It’s just a wedding, Sadie. We can always reschedule and do it later,” he said, his voice soothing, manipulative. “But Lexi is in a really bad place right now. If she finds out we went through with this today, she might actually kill herself. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for someone’s death, would you? Be a good girl.” Outside the heavy oak doors of the suite, the guests were getting restless. The murmur of the crowd grew louder. “Is this wedding happening or what? Why are they taking so long?” “Did someone get cold feet? Oh, this is going to be good gossip.” I looked at Parker, the man I had loved for half my life, my voice cracking with a final plea. “You know how much today meant to me. Please, don’t do this to me…” Before I could finish, Luke’s phone rang. The panicked voice of a nurse blared through the speaker. “Mr. Evans! Miss Lexi is having another episode! Please come quickly, she’s trying to hurt herself!” In the background, I heard a woman screaming hysterically. “Let me die! Why does the person who ruined me get to be happy?! Let me die!” The last trace of guilt evaporated from Parker’s eyes. He didn’t even look at me again as he turned and strode out of the room toward the stage to face the crowd. Moments later, a wave of gasps and shocked whispers echoed from the ballroom as Parker calmly announced that the wedding was canceled. Luke didn’t yell at me before he left. He just looked at me with a profound disappointment that screamed, Why are you being so selfish? Then, they both ran out, their retreating backs so familiar. It was funny. Back in high school, these were the exact same two men who had hated Lexi on my behalf. Luke had been too busy working to notice the shift in me at first, so I had confided in Parker, my childhood sweetheart. He had stroked my hair, his eyes burning with protective fury. “Don’t worry, Sadie. As long as I’m here, no one will ever hurt you again.” The next day at school, my desk was clean. No slurs scrawled in permanent marker, no missing textbooks. My desk mate had nudged me, whispering, “Some hot guy just transferred to the class next door. Lexi is already trying to flirt with him, but he totally ignored her. It was brutal.” A cold dread had pooled in my stomach. Sure enough, Parker appeared at my classroom door a moment later, smiling brightly. “Surprise, Sadie! I begged my parents to let me transfer here to protect you!” My heart had plummeted. I turned around instinctively. Lexi was staring at me from across the room, her eyes so full of pure, dark malice it made me shiver. I still remembered that day vividly. After school, it was pouring rain. I was waiting for the car Parker had called for me when a violent force shoved me from behind. I slammed into the wet asphalt and was dragged like a stray dog into a dark alleyway. Terrified, I looked up. Lexi was smiling down at me, a sickening, predatory grin on her face. “Strip her,” Lexi commanded the group of kids behind her. “Let’s see if she really has the body to keep hooking all these men.” The memories of that day were fragmented, suppressed by years of trauma therapy and medication. I only remembered flashes in my nightmares. Rough hands roaming over my body. Blinding camera flashes. Tears mixing with freezing rain. Lexi had crouched down, slapping my cheek lightly. “Aw, Sadie. You can’t say ‘no.’ You have to say ‘I’m sorry.’ Haven’t you learned that yet?” The smell of blood in the air. The agonizing sting of a blade across my wrists, over and over. The last thing I remembered was Parker’s face when he finally found me. It was twisted with a grief so raw it looked like madness. He had held me so tight I thought he would crush my bones, swearing to God he would kill Lexi for what she did to me. Luke had sworn it, too. He promised he would make sure Lexi never knew a day of peace again. Because of the two men who loved me most, I had found the strength to rebuild myself from the ashes. I had survived. And now, ten years later… I was the villain, and the woman who had almost destroyed my soul was their precious, fragile flower. How utterly laughable. I pulled out my phone and stared at an email. It was a job offer for a senior management position overseas, a relocation opportunity I had turned down because of the wedding, because of them. I stared at the screen until my eyes burned. Then, I typed out a reply and hit send: I accept the transfer. I can start immediately. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How could Luke and Parker, who had witnessed my destruction firsthand, forgive this monster? How could they care about her more than me? Driven by a morbid need to understand, I paid a driver to take me to the private facility where Lexi was staying. It was a luxury sanitarium that cost hundreds of thousands a year. I looked at the billing records at the front desk. The signature on the payments was painfully familiar. The same signature had been at the bottom of every love letter I received as a teenager. The nurse saw me staring and smiled politely. “Are you a relative of Miss Lexi’s too? I haven’t seen you here before, though the other two gentlemen come by all the time.” I forced a polite smile, though my chest felt tight. “Is that so? How long has that been going on?” The nurse thought about it. “About three years now. When she first came in, she was in terrible shape. Her brother—well, the older gentleman—was quite cold at first and didn’t visit much.” “But I guess he saw how pitiful she was, so he started coming more. And then her boyfriend started coming along too.” My breathing stopped. “Boyfriend?” I repeated, my voice barely a whisper. The nurse nodded, a gossipy glint in her eye. “Well, that’s just what we call him privately. He’s never officially admitted it, but a few times after his visits, he asked us to delete the security footage. You know how it is.” I felt like I had been struck by lightning. Dizzy and nauseous, I stumbled down the hallway toward her room. Three years ago. Three years ago, Luke had thrown me a lavish 25th birthday party that was the talk of the town, declaring to the world that I was his princess. Three years ago, Parker had gotten down on one knee and asked me to marry him, and when I said yes, he had set off a firework show that lasted all weekend. While I was drowning in a sea of absolute bliss, believing I was the luckiest woman alive, they were secretly seeing Lexi. Suddenly, all the strange anomalies from the past few months that I had desperately tried to ignore came rushing back. Parker’s increasingly frequent business trips. His short, cold text messages. Even Luke had started sighing in front of me, saying things like, “Sadie, I feel like we’ve spoiled you too much. You need to realize that not everyone in this world is as lucky and blessed as you are.” I had felt so anxious, thinking I had done something wrong. I had walked on eggshells, trying to please them, to make them smile again. And all that time, they were giving the warmth that belonged to me to the woman who had broken me. Suddenly, a soft, intimate sound drifted from inside the room. “Lexi, who gave you permission to hurt yourself again?” It was a man’s voice, thick with repressed, agonizing passion. A wave of bone-deep cold washed over me. For years, that exact same voice had whispered sweet nothings into my ear in the dark. Lexi let out a soft groan. “What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be off enjoying your wedding night with your perfect little bride? Go away!” A heavy sigh followed. “Stop crying. The wedding is canceled. Are you happy now?” I was shaking so hard I couldn’t breathe. I turned on my heel, desperate to escape this suffocating nightmare, only to crash violently into a broad chest at the corner of the hallway. I looked up through a blur of tears. It was Luke. An overwhelming, childish wave of grief crashed over me. I opened my mouth, desperate to find comfort. “Luke…” But before I could speak, my brother reached up and wiped away my tears. His face was full of exhaustion. “Let it go, Sadie,” he said quietly. Let it go? I stared at him in disbelief. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Since you found your way here, I’ll be blunt. Parker and I have been keeping tabs on her for years. We wanted to make sure she was miserable. We didn’t want her to have a good life.” “But we didn’t even need to do anything. She’s beautiful, but she had no education. Her deadbeat family kicked her out and forced her to work in underground hostess clubs. Sadie, if we hadn’t stepped in to save her three years ago, those men would have literally played her to death.” Luke’s eyes filled with a sickening wave of pity. “Compared to what she’s been through, what happened to you in high school was nothing. Stop holding onto the past, Sadie. You’re being vindictive.” He paused, looking at me critically. “Besides, you were a spoiled brat growing up. You probably provoked her back then. Why else would she have singled you out to bully?” The world turned cold. A dull, heavy ache blossomed in my lower abdomen. I felt all the strength drain from my body. Maybe seeing how pale I was, Luke sighed again. “I’ll have the driver take you home. Be a good girl.” I didn’t say a word. I just looked down at my phone. A tear fell onto the screen, perfectly blurring the countdown timer for my flight. I had 24 hours until the plane took off. I went back to the house in a trance and walked straight into Parker’s home office. The computer password was easy. It was my birthday. With shaking hands, I clicked on a hidden folder. It was filled with thousands of photos of Lexi over the past ten years. Covert shots, candid moments, tracing her entire life. The further down I scrolled, the softer Parker’s notes became, and the colder my heart grew. [Lexi’s family sold her to a nightclub. She deserves it. I paid off the manager to make sure they give her a hard time.] [She was groped by some old creep today. The girl is clever, though. She managed to talk her way out of it.] [Lexi is being bullied by the other girls. I secretly had someone move her to a different club. She still looks so sad.] I started laughing. I laughed so hard that tears streamed down my face. They were so incredibly kind. So noble that they could magnanimously forgive my abuser on my behalf. So righteous that they were willing to betray me to save a monster. I shut down the computer, went to the bedroom, and packed a single suitcase with a few clothes. When my hand brushed against the positive pregnancy test, I paused. Then, with absolute, cold finality, I ripped it in half and threw it in the trash can. The sun had long set by the time Parker finally came home. I looked up from the couch. Lexi was standing right behind him, wearing a pristine white dress. I flinched violently, shrinking back into the cushions. Parker immediately rushed forward, trying to pull me into his arms. “It’s okay, Sadie. Don’t be scared.” His embrace didn’t smell like the man I knew. It was coated in the heavy, cloying scent of her perfume. My lips were trembling with pure rage. “Parker… you brought her into our home. How dare you!” Parker pursed his lips, looking incredibly pained. “Sadie, I… I need you to apologize to her.” He avoided my incredulous stare, speaking in a low, placating tone. “You don’t understand. Lexi is in a really fragile state. She has severe self-harm tendencies. She told me that if you just apologize to her, she will cooperate with the doctors and take her meds. After all, you were the one who got her expelled back then.” The dull ache in my abdomen suddenly flared into sharp, agonizing spasms. I looked at Parker and laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “You want me to apologize to the person who traumatized me? Parker, have you lost your goddamn mind?” Parker’s brows furrowed. Before he could speak, Lexi spoke up from the doorway. “Forget it if she doesn’t want to. I don’t want to live anyway. I’m sorry for causing trouble, Sadie.” Her tone was playful, mocking. Hearing those familiar words from her mouth made my blood boil. I stood up, consumed by a feral urge to slap the smirk off her face. But Parker immediately grabbed me, pinning my arms to my sides to hold me back. Lexi looked at me and smiled. “Wow, Sadie. You really were a straight-A student. You still remember everything I taught you, don’t you?” Parker frowned as I struggled against him, my eyes wild. “Calm down, Sadie.” He pulled out his phone. “Look, I’ve already booked a new venue. I’m going to throw you an even bigger, more lavish wedding to make it up to you, okay?” He looked at me as if I were a throwing a temper tantrum over a toy. “It’s just a simple apology, Sadie. Is it really that hard to say?” My breathing became shallow and rapid. I was back in that alleyway in the pouring rain. Her voice was whispering in my ear like a demon. Sadie, when I beat you, you have to say I’m sorry. Got it? The pain in my stomach was now a tearing sensation. “Parker…” I gasped out, clutching my stomach. Seeing me like this, Lexi’s eyes gleamed with malice. She suddenly spoke up loudly, interrupting me. “I don’t feel well. I want to go back to the clinic.” Parker, who had been about to look at me, immediately let go of my arms. “I’ll take you back.” With the last of my strength, I lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve. “Parker, please… my stomach hurts so bad…” He looked down at me, his eyes full of impatience and annoyance. “Sadie, enough. You refuse to apologize, and now you’re faking a medical emergency to manipulate me? Luke was right. We really have spoiled you rotten.” With that, he violently shook off my hand, wrapped his arm around Lexi, and walked out the door. I collapsed onto the floor, staring blankly at the closed door. I looked down. The white rug beneath me was stained with a bright, terrifying crimson. The child I had loved and dreamed of was leaving me, washing away in a pool of blood on the living room floor. The very last tear I would ever shed for these people fell. My heart turned to ash. Let the world be as wide as it may. I was done with them. I never wanted anything to do with either of them ever again. Late the next night, Parker dragged his exhausted body back home. But the moment he opened the front door, a heavy, metallic scent of blood and dampness hit him. A sudden, violent wave of dread washed over his soul.

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I was born to inherit a criminal empire, but through a bizarre twist of fate, I was “reclaimed” by the Wentworths—a family of old-money aristocrats who thought they were doing me a favor. Back at the Wentworth estate, I was the “real” daughter who felt like a ghost in my own home. Meanwhile, they had Madison. Madison was the “fake” daughter they’d raised in my absence—a girl who played the part of the fragile, wide-eyed porcelain doll to perfection. Madison had a fiancé, Tyler. To help her secure her spot and drive me out, Tyler decided to seduce me. It was a classic trap. I played along. I leaned into the role of the naive girl from the streets, letting myself get tangled up in his web. I wanted to see how far he’d go. I didn’t have to wait long. He took our most private, intimate photos and put them up for sale at an underground auction house, intending to incinerate my reputation and leave me with nothing but ashes. When the news leaked, I became the city’s favorite target. My name was dragged through the mud. But the Wentworths? They didn’t protect me. Instead, they turned on each other, using me as the ammunition. “I told you nothing good comes from the gutter! Why did we even bring her back?” my father barked. “She’s your flesh and blood, isn’t she? Don’t you dare pin this on me!” my mother shrieked back. Madison sat there, dabbing at fake tears, playing the peacemaker. “Poor Lexi… she’s just from a different world. She doesn’t understand our values. She’ll learn, eventually.” That was the final straw. I was kicked out of the Wentworth mansion that night, and like clockwork, Tyler and Madison’s engagement was reinstated. With nowhere else to go—or so they thought—I went back to the only life that ever made sense. I stepped back into the family business and took over the very underground auction house Tyler thought he was using to destroy me. The night of the grand auction arrived. Madison and Tyler showed up, dressed to the nines, likely expecting to watch my public execution from the VIP lounge. They froze when they saw me standing on that stage, gavel in hand, bathed in the spotlight. I cleared my throat, the microphone carrying my voice to every corner of the darkened room. “Our next lot is titled ‘The Counterfeits.’ We have a collection of explicit, unfiltered photos of our very own ‘Prince Charming,’ Tyler, and the Wentworths’ darling Madison.” “Standard rules apply. Highest bidder takes the prize.” … 1 I had just hung up on my biological father—a man who ran the city’s shadows and had been begging me to come home—when I headed over to Tyler’s place for a date. I was smiling, playing the part, until I reached the door and heard voices from inside. “Tyler, look at what she did! Lexi is so… animalistic. How could she leave these marks on you?” It was Madison. She was pointing at the dark, bruised hickeys and bite marks on Tyler’s neck, her voice trembling with performative heartbreak. Tyler’s handsome face flushed. He tried to adjust his collar, coughing awkwardly before pulling Madison into a gentle embrace. “It’s okay, Maddy. If this is what it takes to get her out of the house so you can keep your place as the only Wentworth daughter, I’ll endure it. It’s a small sacrifice.” He paused, his ears turning a deep crimson. “The marks… they’ll fade. Stop crying, babe.” Madison buried her face in his chest, her voice dropping into a hiss. “Promise me you won’t fall for her. You’re mine.” I leaned against the doorframe, biting back a cold laugh. This counterfeit girl had spent years basking in the wealth and love that belonged to me, and even now, she felt entitled to every scrap of it. Tyler agreed immediately. His lack of hesitation sent a sharp, sudden pang through my chest. So, all that effort? All the sweet words and the calculated seduction? It was all for her. He was a martyr for his little princess. Then, he pulled out a USB drive and handed it to her. He stroked her hair, his voice dripping with faux-chivalry. “Every photo is in here. Whether you want to blackmail her into leaving or just burn her world down publicly, I’m with you. I’d do anything to make you happy, Maddy.” My hand tightened on the doorknob. My blood felt like it was turning into shards of ice. Last night, we were “intimate.” Today, he was handing over the knife to slit my throat. Rage and humiliation warred in my gut, sharp as a blade. I was ready to burst in and end them both right there, but Madison’s next words stopped me cold. “Tyler, I want to send these to The Onyx—the underground auction. We can tip off the press, build the hype… Lexi won’t just be gone. She’ll be buried.” The Onyx. The underground auction house my father gave me for my eighteenth birthday. Madison looked up at him, eyes wide with hope. Tyler hesitated for a second. “Do you think I’m evil?” she whispered, clutching his sleeve. “If we don’t do this, she’s the one who marries you. I can’t lose you.” She lowered her head, a sob catching in her throat. “Some white-trash girl from the middle of nowhere comes in and steals my life, my name… even my fiancé. I just want to be your wife, Tyler.” Tyler’s heart clearly melted. He pulled her closer. “Fine. Whatever you want. I’ll help you.” By that evening, the rumor mill in the city was on fire. Word had spread that “The Lost Wentworth Daughter” was the star of an upcoming erotic auction at The Onyx. My phone wouldn’t stop ringing. The manager of the auction house was sweating through his suit when he finally got me on the line. “The files are already in our system, Boss. Do you want me to scrub it? If the Big Man finds out your photos are being circulated in our own house, he’ll have my head. Please, save me!” I smiled, a cold, sharp expression. “Why are you scared? I’m right here.” “But… the photos—” “Don’t scrub them,” I interrupted. “In fact, fan the flames. Make sure the whole world is watching. I want this bridge to burn bright enough to see from space.” 2 When I walked into the Wentworth dining room that evening, the air was thick enough to choke on. I sat down and started eating as if it were any other Tuesday. My father slammed his glass onto the table, the wine splashing onto the white linen like blood. “You disgrace! How dare you show your face here?” Madison smirked almost imperceptibly before dropping her fork to rub my father’s back. “Dad, please, your heart…” She turned to me, her eyes flashing with a cruel triumph masked as moral outrage. “Lexi, don’t you have any dignity? Think of your fiancé! Think of the family! How could you be so… desperate? To let yourself be filmed like that?” “Since when does a counterfeit get to lecture me?” I asked quietly. Before Madison could squeeze out a tear, my mother jumped up. She hovered over Madison like a protective hen, glaring at me with pure loathing. “She has been my daughter for twenty years! She is a princess in this house! You have no right to speak to her like that!” She spat the word “daughter” at me, emphasizing that my blood meant nothing compared to the bond she shared with Madison. I looked at them—these people who were supposed to be my parents. My heart felt like a lump of cold iron. Faced with a scandal that could ruin my life, they had zero questions, zero desire to help. Just blame. I picked up my knife and fork, pushed a shard of broken glass aside, and calmly cut into my steak. My father and mother were vibrating with rage at being ignored. They started shouting at each other instead. “I told you! You can’t take the ‘street’ out of a girl. Why did you insist on bringing this mess into our lives?” “She came out of your womb, didn’t she? Don’t blame me for her trashy genes!” Madison watched me, looking like she’d already won. A moment later, Tyler stormed in, his face a mask of righteous fury. “Lexi! How could you do this to me?” He stared at me, his voice trembling with “betrayal.” “How many other men have been in your bed? Was it someone from your old life? Or someone new?” I looked at the faint marks on his neck—marks I had left there—and the irony was almost too much to bear. He was such a good actor. He really leaned into the role of the scorned lover. But why? Why did I have to be the sacrifice for his grand romance with Madison? When I didn’t answer, he seemed to get even angrier. He lunged forward, grabbing my arm, his voice actually shaking now. “Why aren’t you defending yourself? Is it true? Are you really—” Madison cut him off. “Since Tyler is here, Mom, Dad… I think the family owes him an explanation. And a solution.” Her eyes were shining. Tyler stiffened, slowly letting go of my arm. The scandal was the perfect excuse. My mother glared at me one last time before turning to Tyler, her voice softening into an apologetic coo. “Tyler, dear, we are so sorry. You know… Lexi might be our biological child, but she’s been a wild animal for years. She has habits we can’t break. It breaks our hearts, really.” “Wild animal.” The words stung. They were the ones who lost me. I was seven years old, wandering the streets alone, terrified, until Frank found me and brought me into the Syndicate. I still have nightmares about those nights. And now, they used it as an insult. I gritted my teeth, swallowing the bitterness. My father spoke up then. “Lexi is too manipulative, too stained for a man like you. Tyler, you’ve been wronged. As an apology… we’d like to reinstate the original arrangement. The engagement will pass back to Madison. There will only be one Wentworth daughter from now on. As for Lexi… we are done with her.” Madison beamed, looking at Tyler with pure adoration. But Tyler’s gaze lingered on the marks on his neck for a split second, and his expression darkened. He looked at me. “Do you have anything to say?” What was there to say? Right then, my phone vibrated. I stood up and walked toward the door. As I stepped into the hall, I heard Tyler’s voice behind me, cold and final. “I agree. The engagement is with Madison.” I stopped in my tracks. I hit ‘accept’ on the call. “Boss,” the voice on the other end said urgently. “We found it. Everything.” 3 The rumor that my private photos were being auctioned was the final nail in the coffin. By kicking me out, the Wentworths had essentially confirmed it was true. The internet was a cesspool. People called me every name in the book. I even got DMs asking for my “hourly rate.” I didn’t stay silent. I posted one sentence on my socials: Tomorrow night at The Onyx, I’m auctioning off ‘The Counterfeit Couple’—the private collection of Tyler Blackwood and Madison Wentworth. Don’t miss the show. Tyler was the first to hit back, tagging me from his official account: Delusion is a sad look, Lexi. You’re the one who betrayed us. Don’t try to drag Madison into your mess. The Wentworths didn’t stay quiet either. They put out a three-page press release “vouching” for Madison’s purity and threatening me with a defamation lawsuit. The public was firmly on their side. Perfect. I needed them to feel safe. I needed them to show up. If the whole cast wasn’t there, the finale wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying. The next night, The Onyx was packed. The energy was electric, a mix of high-society voyeurism and dark-web cruelty. Tyler arrived looking grim, followed by a phalanx of security guards carrying briefcases of cash. My auction house had a “cash only” rule—an old tradition I kept because I liked the weight of it. Madison and the Wentworths arrived through the private entrance, also carrying several cases. They were here to buy my silence, to bury whatever I thought I had. When I stepped out onto the stage in a sleek, black silk dress, the room went silent. I felt every predatory eye on me. I welcomed them. My biological parents charged toward the stage. My father raised his hand to slap me, but before he could connect, my manager—a man who had seen more blood than a surgeon—intercepted him. He caught my father’s wrist in a grip that looked like it might snap bone. “You forgot the rules? Should I have my men show you the exit?” Madison stepped forward, looking like a wilted flower. “Dad is just emotional, please. Lexi… why are you doing this to me?” She looked at me, tears welling up. “Why are you so cruel?” The manager looked at me. I gave him a tiny nod, and he let go, backing away with a final warning. They couldn’t touch me on stage, so they resorted to psychological warfare. My mother stepped closer, her voice a hushed, manipulative whisper. “Lexi, honey, stop this. You can’t play with Madison’s reputation like this. You’re sisters. I know you’ve had a hard life, and you’re worried about the inheritance, but this is beneath you.” She leaned in, her eyes cold. “If you come down now, tell everyone this was a prank born out of jealousy, and get the manager to cancel the lot… we’ll let you come home.” I looked at her, tilting my head. “You’ve been around this world long enough to know the rules, Mother. If I cancel an auction after the gavel is up, the house takes my hands or my feet. Is that what you want?” My mother’s face paled for a second before she masked it with a shrug. “Oh, surely they wouldn’t do that to a girl. They’re just… being dramatic, right?” Madison’s face twisted with spite. “It’s what you deserve for being a snake!” I got it. They wanted me to gamble my limbs to save Madison’s “good name.” They didn’t care if I bled out in the alleyway as long as their precious princess remained untarnished. It was hilarious. Truly. I didn’t waste another breath. I walked to the center of the stage and picked up the heavy, silver-plated gavel. “Our first item tonight,” I announced, my voice amplified throughout the hall, “is a collection from ‘The Counterfeit Couple’—starring our very own fraud, Tyler Blackwood, and the fake heiress, Madison Wentworth.” “Standard rules. High bidder wins.” 4 The room erupted. The Onyx didn’t hire “auctioneers.” They had a reputation for being ruthless and honest. The fact that I was the one holding the gavel changed everything. But it was my phrasing—”Fake Tyler”—that sent the crowd into a frenzy. Tyler Blackwood was the sole heir to the Blackwood shipping empire. And I had just called him a fraud. Tyler stormed the stage, grabbing my wrist. “Lexi! You’ve fallen so low you’re working in a place like this? Get your things. We’re leaving.” I used my free hand to deliver a slap that echoed like a gunshot. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” I hissed. “You’re just a piece of meat I decided to play with. Did you really think you meant something to me?” I leaned into the mic. “Or are you just nervous, Tyler? Afraid of what’s in the vault?” Tyler gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with hate. “Fine. If you want to rot in the mud, be my guest. Don’t crawl back to me when you’re nothing.” He walked off the stage. I smiled and slammed the gavel down. “Lot One: A series of candid photos of Tyler Blackwood. Starting bid: Ten cents.” It was an insult. A starting bid that low for a man of his stature was a slap in the face. And because it was an anonymous auction, the rich socialites in the room didn’t mind humiliating him. The price climbed quickly. A group of wealthy cougars pushed it to three million. Tyler, looking like he wanted to murder everyone in the room, finally bid thirty million just to shut them up. Sold. I did the same with Madison’s photos. Before the Wentworths could even open their mouths, Tyler dropped another thirty million to save her. He was playing the hero, basking in the pity of the crowd. But then, I dropped the real bomb. “Next lot: Evidence of the Wentworth family’s systemic tax evasion and offshore money laundering. Starting bid: One hundred million dollars.” The room went dead silent. The Onyx only auctioned verified items. If it was on the block, it was real. This was a bomb that would level the Wentworth legacy. The family panicked. They started bidding against themselves, but they didn’t have the liquid cash. Madison turned to Tyler, begging him to use the Blackwood accounts. But I wasn’t done. “And for a combined lot,” I said, a predatory grin spreading across my face, “we have the ultimate secret: The identity of the real Blackwood heir.” “Starting bid: Ten billion dollars.” I reached back, and a tall, shadow-dressed man stepped through the velvet curtains.

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The day I transferred to my new class, everyone looked at me with pity. Because my desk mate was the school’s notoriously vicious, unrestrained bad boy. The girl sitting in front of me was a famously arrogant, domineering rich heiress. And the guy sitting behind me was a ridiculously popular teen idol who barely ever showed up to class. It’s worth mentioning that these three made up the most stable triangle in the entire school—ranking dead last, second to last, and third to last in every exam. But starting today, they wouldn’t have to hang their heads in shame over their terrible grades anymore. Because their god had arrived. 01 On my first day at my new school, I walked into the classroom wearing faded, washed-out jeans and slightly cracked sneakers. Everyone looked at me with pity. Probably because I looked completely out of place in this elite, private prep school. My assigned seat was in the far back corner. After the teacher pointed to my desk, the class’s pity turned into sheer sympathy. I didn’t understand why until I got to my desk. My desk mate was a guy with an absolute mess of spiky, alternative hair. He wasn’t wearing the school uniform. Instead, he wore a black tank top under a black leather jacket covered in studs. He looked like someone you absolutely did not want to mess with. My desk’s cubby was also completely stuffed with his junk. Gaming consoles, decks of cards, and a massive hoard of snacks—it honestly looked like a convenience store exploded inside my desk. This punk-rock desk mate loudly chewed his gum and warned me in a low voice: “If you want to survive at this school, keep your mouth shut and sit somewhere else.” There were actually a few empty seats further back, but they were too far from the chalkboard. I wouldn’t be able to read anything. “Are you deaf? I said move. You don’t deserve to sit next to me.” The moment the words left his mouth, I started pulling everything out of my cubby, dumping it all onto the top of my desk. “Wow! Are all these welcome gifts for me?! Thank you so much! You are so sweet!” “Bullshit! Who said those were for you?!” He lunged forward to grab his stuff, but I dodged. “Oh, if they aren’t for me, did you bring them from home? Wait, doesn’t the school rulebook say we can’t bring these things to class?” The teacher at the front of the room frowned deeply, glaring at him. “Liam? What is going on? Haven’t I told you countless times that gaming consoles are strictly prohibited on school grounds?” Seeing the teacher marching down the aisle to confiscate his stash, Liam panicked and forcefully shoved the entire pile toward me. “No, Mr. Davis! These are… these are all welcome gifts for the new student!” Liam glared at me, gritting his teeth as he hissed, “After all, a broke charity case like you has probably never seen nice things like this in your entire life, right?” He didn’t hold back his insults. Unfortunately for him, if someone throws mud at me… I pick it up, shove it in their mouth, and insult their entire bloodline. “Thank you so much! You’re right, I really haven’t seen things like this before! Back in my rural village, I only ever saw pigs that ran around in the mud. This is my very first time seeing one that speaks English!” Liam’s eyes went wide. Just as he was about to explode, I quickly pointed at a sheet of Peppa Pig stickers sitting in the pile, smiling innocently to show I totally meant no offense. The teacher interrupted us, rushing me to sit down so class could start. The second I sat down, Liam threatened me: “I’m going to remember this. Just you wait. I’m going to make your life a living hell. You’re gonna eat it.” Hearing that, I excitedly pulled a plastic grocery bag out of my pocket. “Oh, perfect! Can I get it to-go?” I had heard the cafeteria food at this prep school was incredible. I had fought tooth and nail through a brutal national academic competition, catching the principal’s eye, which earned me a full-ride scholarship to get in here. But apparently, on my very first day, I had provoked the exact wrong person. 02 As soon as the bell rang, Liam got a phone call and stormed out. The girl sitting in front of me turned around, looked me up and down, and rolled her eyes. “You’re so ugly. You pissed off Liam. Your good days are officially over.” That was when a nearby student whispered to me that Liam was the school’s most notorious bad boy. His family was incredibly wealthy and powerful, so no one dared to cross him. The girl in front of me flipped her long, wavy hair, letting out an ambiguous, mocking scoff. I looked at her, examining her face, and then said with absolute sincerity: “You are so beautiful.” I wasn’t lying. I had genuinely never seen a girl this pretty in real life. I subtly glanced at the name written on her notebook. Chloe Sterling. Even her name sounded expensive. Hearing my genuine praise, Chloe paused. But a second later, she put her arrogant, nose-in-the-air mask back on. “Save the flattery. Don’t think complimenting me means I’m going to protect you.” That reminded me—I probably needed to start thinking about my personal safety. “So… what exactly is he going to do to me?” Drag me outside and beat me up? A one-on-one fight, or getting jumped by a whole gang? No one answered my question. Aside from the arrogant heiress, everyone else just looked at me with deep pity. But I got my answer very soon. Right after school ended, I was “politely escorted” to the basketball gym. Four or five guys surrounded me. Liam sat on the bleachers a few feet away, smiling smugly. “Well? It’s not too late to get on your knees and apologize.” I cautiously backed up, trying to reason with them first. “Come on, guys. Deep down, we’re all the same kind of people.” One of the guys cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing loudly in the gym. He gave a terrifying grin. “Who the hell is the same kind of person as you?” I nodded frantically in panic. “Seriously! Aren’t we all just young, patriotic Americans pursuing the American Dream?” The entire gym fell dead silent. By the time they processed what I said, I had already bolted out the gym doors. The guys yelled, “Don’t let her get away!” and sprinted after me. An epic campus chase sequence officially began. I bolted straight into the principal’s office, scaring the poor man so badly he choked on his coffee. “Chloe?! What are you… hey! Don’t jump!” I had scrambled straight onto the window ledge, half my body hanging outside the building. The principal let out a shrill, panic-stricken scream. The guys chasing me barged in and froze. Liam, especially, stood rooted to the floor, his eyes bulging like saucers. I gripped the window frame tightly. Whenever anyone took a step forward, I leaned further out, terrifying the principal into playing a high-stakes game of Red Light, Green Light. “Chloe! Let’s talk this out! Just come down first, okay?!” I huddled against the window frame, refusing to move. “They’re bullying me! I want my mom!” The principal was sweating bullets. “We can fix this! You’re our top scholarship student! How about this—I’ll call your mom right now, okay?” “My mom is a little hard to reach.” “It’s fine! I’m the principal, I can reach anyone! Just tell me how to contact her!” I thought for a second, then said slowly, “Well, you’ll need to prepare some candles, incense, and maybe an Ouija board… and wait until midnight… Or I could just jump out this window and go see her right now!” I made a sudden movement toward the edge, and the principal literally dropped to his knees in terror. Now, not only was I stunned, but the guys behind me were completely petrified. “Chloe, let’s just talk! Tell me exactly who was bullying you!” I didn’t say a word. I just stared dead at Liam. The principal finally stood up, turned around, and roared at him: “I am calling your father RIGHT NOW!” 03 Half an hour later, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the school gates. Liam’s father had arrived. After hearing the whole story, he didn’t hold back, furiously ripping into Liam in front of everyone. “Who gave you the right to act like a mafia boss at school?! Fighting and bullying little girls like some street thug—is that what makes you a man?!” Liam, who had been so arrogant earlier, didn’t dare utter a single syllable. He just stood in the corner, taking the verbal beating. After he finished yelling at Liam, the man walked over to me. “You must be Chloe. I am so incredibly sorry. My son is an immature idiot. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive him.” I gave a silent nod. Liam’s father grabbed Liam by the collar and yanked him forward. “Apologize to her properly! And when her parents get here, you are going to apologize to them too!” “You don’t need to do that, sir. My mom can’t come.” When calling parents, the principal had only called Liam’s dad. The man had vaguely heard about my background from the school board and quickly guessed the answer. “And your father?” “He can’t come either.” The principal quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Chloe’s family situation is a bit complicated. Both of her parents have passed away.” Hearing that, Liam’s father took a sharp breath, a look of profound guilt washing over his face. After the principal finally coaxed me down from the window and urged me to head home, I was just about to leave when I heard Liam getting chewed out again. “This poor girl has had such a hard life, and you have the nerve to lay your hands on her?! Look at your grades! You are permanently dead last in your class!” “Do you have any idea how much your mother and I have sacrificed for you?! We hire tutors that charge $500 an hour, and this is the garbage report card you bring home?!” “Let me make this clear: if you rank dead last again on the midterm, don’t even bother coming home!” Hearing the words “$500 an hour,” I instantly slammed on the brakes. I waited until the man left. When Liam finally walked out of the office, he spotted me immediately, crouching in the hallway corner. He glared at me, his tone incredibly impatient. “Why haven’t you left yet? Do you want to fight me again?” I violently shook my head, plastering on the most sycophantic, eager smile I could muster, and scurried up to him. “Um… do you need a tutor? I can tutor you! And I don’t charge $500 an hour! $50 is plenty!” Liam rolled his eyes, completely ignoring me, and kept walking. I scampered right behind him, aggressively pitching my services. “I’m serious! Trust me, I guarantee I can get you out of dead last place on the midterm!” “That’s hilarious. Do you have any idea how elite the tutors my parents hire are? They couldn’t fix me. You think you can?” “What if I can?” Liam scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets, walking with a careless swagger. “Don’t waste my time, and don’t waste yours. I can’t study. Even memorizing a single vocabulary word is a massive struggle for me.” “Then do you believe I can make you memorize a vocabulary word in under 60 seconds?” Liam finally stopped walking. He turned around and glared at me fiercely. “Why are you so annoying?! What do you even get out of this?” His yelling startled me. I instantly put on a deeply tragic, heartbroken expression. “You know… I used to have a boyfriend who I loved very much. But he forgot all about me.” Liam froze in place. After a long silence, he slowly raised a finger and pointed at himself. “It wasn’t… me, was it? That’s impossible. You’re lying.” “Of course I’m lying! The word is ‘Forget.’ F-O-R-G-E-T. To fail to remember. Memorize that word, it’s definitely going to be on the midterm.” The moment I said that, Liam’s face contorted violently. “Dammit. The knowledge just entered my brain in the most toxic, non-consensual way possible.” 04 But the very next day, Liam walked up to my desk and threw $500 in cash right in front of me. “Starting today, you’re my tutor.” I snatched the cash instantly and gave him an ironclad guarantee. “No problem! I promise you won’t be dead last on the midterm!” And so, I began crafting a highly customized curriculum for Liam. Since I was getting paid, I was going to be professional. I designed the entire lesson plan specifically tailored to his abysmal baseline. But Liam made one thing clear: his secret, desperate grind session absolutely could not be discovered by anyone else. So, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after school, we met in secret at the basketball gym. But despite our best efforts, people eventually found out. Not long after, a girl came up to me and started fishing for info. “Are you and Liam getting really close lately? I saw him waiting for you after school the other day.” I looked at the girl. She looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t remember her name to save my life. I gave a neutral, non-committal answer. “We’re alright.” The moment I said that, a loud bang erupted from the front row. Chloe slammed her hands on my desk, standing up furiously. “What exactly is your relationship with Liam right now?” The girl who was questioning me quickly pulled Chloe down to sit, then shot me a venomous glare. “Do you have any idea that Chloe and Liam have been childhood sweethearts forever?! Don’t even think about trying to seduce him.” “Wait, no, I’m not!” I desperately wanted to explain, looking at Chloe with profound, maternal disappointment. Such a beautiful, delicate flower. Why on earth is she obsessed with that spiky-haired pile of manure? Chloe completely missed the pity in my eyes. She just glared at me harder. “I don’t care what your relationship is. Just stay the hell away from him.” I felt incredibly conflicted. Just yesterday, Liam had tossed another $2,000 at me to keep tutoring him. According to him, the last English pop quiz was the first time in his entire life he had managed to translate every single sentence without staring blankly at the paper. Seeing my silence, Chloe angrily kicked my desk. Unfortunately for her, the desks at this prep school were built like tanks. The desk didn’t budge an inch, but her face twisted in agonizing pain. Seeing her get hurt, the girl next to her immediately started comforting her, while shooting me an icy, threatening look over her shoulder. “You’re dead. Wait for me after school.” I didn’t have to tutor today, and I was originally planning to go to my part-time job. Right before leaving school, I went to the restroom. The moment I walked out of the stall, a group of girls cornered me. I rubbed my temples and gave a bitter laugh. Seriously? What kind of garbage school is this? People are constantly forming fight clubs every single day. Does the administration literally do nothing?! “Hey! Who gave you the nerve to try and seduce Liam?” The girls backed me into a corner, hurling insults one after another. “So shameless. All she knows how to do is play the pathetic victim.” “Exactly. Let’s beat the crap out of her, that’ll teach her a lesson.” Standing on the edge of the group, I spotted the girl who had been hovering around Chloe earlier today. She seemed to be the ringleader. Another girl next to her asked nervously, “Hey, what if Chloe finds out we did this? She explicitly told us not to…” “Shut up! Everyone knows she likes Liam! We’re just helping her out!” With that, the ringleader gave the signal, and the group rolled up their sleeves and marched toward me. I glanced around the room, then immediately ducked into the janitor’s closet. “If you mess with me, you are kicking a literal steel plate!” I grabbed a wet mop and dunked it directly into the nearest toilet bowl. The girls’ eyes went wide in sheer horror, and they scrambled backward. As the ancient proverb says: A mop dipped in toilet water makes you an invincible god of war. Today, they were going to taste my wrath. Just as the epic battle was about to erupt, someone suddenly burst into the restroom. “STOP! What are you doing?! Who told you to bully her?!” 05 Chloe shoved her way to the front, shielding me behind her, and screamed at the ringleader. “Didn’t I tell you explicitly NOT to bother her?! Sarah, what the hell is this?!” The girl named Sarah shrank back nervously. “I… I was just trying to help you! You saw how close she was getting to Liam. What are you supposed to do? We just wanted to warn her to stay away from him.” “I told you I don’t need your help! If I have to win a guy through cheap bullying, I don’t fucking want him!” I quietly poked my head out from behind Chloe’s back, studying her expression. Damn, sister. That was badass! “If I like him, I’ll pursue him myself. But who he chooses to like is his own business.” “Most importantly, I will absolutely not allow you to use my name as an excuse to bully someone else.” With that, Chloe grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the restroom, leaving the group of girls standing there, too terrified to follow. Once we were out in the hallway, Chloe finally apologized to me. “I’m sorry. I had no idea they were going to do that to you. I asked Liam about it—he said you guys are just tutoring. You should go home now.” I checked the time. It was too late to make it to my part-time job anyway. My shift was far from school, and it took a 20-minute bus ride just to get there. Honestly, tutoring was way more lucrative. My eyes darted around, looking at Chloe, and a bold idea suddenly flashed in my mind. “Um… have you ever thought about getting a tutor?” “Me?” “Yeah! Yeah! I heard you’re ranked second to last in the grade. Don’t you want to reconsider?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “So what if I’m second to last? I only stayed at the bottom to be closer to him.” “But he’s getting tutored by me now! I promised him that after the midterms, he absolutely won’t be dead last anymore. When his rank goes up, won’t you just be further away from him?” Chloe instantly fell silent, clearly processing my logic. I quickly doubled down on my sales pitch. “Seriously, just hire me to tutor you too! I promise I won’t play favorites. You guys just listen to my lessons, try your best on the exam, and I guarantee your rankings will be right next to each other!” Hearing that, Chloe agreed on the spot. So, my new schedule began: tutoring Liam on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; tutoring Chloe on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays; taking Sundays off. Neither of them hesitated when it came to paying my tutoring fees. In less than half a month, my bank account was absolutely overflowing. Even though their academic foundations were horrifyingly terrible, I had the energy and the ruthless methods to fix them. With money in my pocket, my eyes started drifting toward the various shops around the school. There was a bakery that always wafted the smell of fresh bread right when school ended. Every time I smelled it, I practically lost the ability to walk. After tutoring today, I finally worked up the courage to walk into the bakery and buy a strawberry shortcake slice. But as I bought it, the cashier kept giving me a really strange look, making my chest tighten. Is there something wrong with this cake? It was my first time buying a fancy cake in my life, so I was incredibly cautious. I verified the price three separate times before handing over my cash. As I turned around to grab my cake, I heard the cashiers whispering. “Stalker fans are so terrifying these days!” “Seriously. I can’t believe they followed him all the way to his school.” I was still completely confused. Holding my freshly bought cake, I walked out the door—and bumped straight into a tall guy wearing a baseball cap and a black surgical mask. He turned back to look at me, and when he saw the strawberry cake in my hand, his eyes filled with intense irritation. “Do you stalker fans seriously have nothing better to do? What do you want from me?” 06 I looked left. I looked right. Seeing no one else around, I finally realized he was talking to me. The guy talking was incredibly tall. With the cap and mask, I couldn’t see his face, but the absolute disgust in his eyes was impossible to hide. I stared back at him, utterly bewildered. “Bro… who even are you?” If he had persecution paranoia, I highly suggested he seek professional therapy immediately. “Hmph, stop acting dumb. You followed me all the way to my school, didn’t you? You just saw me buy a strawberry cake, so you immediately bought the exact same one.” “Can you please get a life of your own? Stop following me, okay?” Before I could even process what was happening, the guy dropped a “Don’t follow me” and stormed off. Seriously, who the hell was that guy? Why was he acting like such an arrogant prick? The incident stuck in my mind, but I never expected to run into him at school the very next day. I had been at this school for almost a month, and the guy assigned to the desk directly behind me—who had never shown up once—finally made an appearance. I heard he was a teen idol who debuted early and was currently a massively popular boyband member. Because his schedule was so packed, he was practically a ghost, spending most of his time on a leave of absence. I walked into the classroom with my backpack. When I got a clear look at his face, I stopped in my tracks. It was an incredibly gorgeous face. His features were sharp and flawless, looking exactly like someone who had just stepped out of a manga. But just as I stepped closer to get a better look at his face, he made eye contact with me, and his expression instantly darkened. “Are you stalker fans ever going to quit?! How did you even get enrolled in this school?! Does the administration do absolutely nothing?!” His loud outburst made the entire class turn and stare at us. Liam, who had been dead asleep on his desk, woke up groggily and lifted his head. Chloe quickly rushed over and shielded me behind her back. “Noah, what the hell are you saying? This is our new transfer student, Chloe.” Liam instantly backed me up too. “Yeah, back off. She’s our private tutor now. I’m relying entirely on her to get me out of dead last.” Hearing that, Noah finally realized he had made a massive mistake. But after a brief, awkward silence, his response was basically no response at all. “Oh. I see.” He turned his head and refused to look at me, clearly not intending to apologize for falsely accusing me twice. Since I hadn’t actually suffered any real damage, I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. I had to tutor Liam after school today anyway. We stayed in the basketball gym until it was pitch black outside. Finally, he finished the last question, threw his pen down, and let out a massive sigh of relief. I looked over his completed practice exam, extremely satisfied. I packed up my things to leave. Just as I walked out of the gym, I heard rapid footsteps behind me. “Hold on, wait for me.” Noah suddenly popped out from some dark corner and quickly blocked my path. “Are you seriously tutoring Liam and Chloe right now?” I nodded, looking at him in confusion. Seeing me confirm it, Noah looked like he was having a full-blown panic attack, frantically scratching his head. “Does that mean… they’re never going to be dead last and second to last ever again?!” This time, I nodded even faster. Are you kidding? Under my intensive, hyper-focused training, those two were guaranteed to break into the top 500 on the midterms at the very least. Noah’s eyes went wide, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. I stared at the bulging veins on the back of his hands and slowly took a step back. What is this guy trying to do? Is he trying to sabotage my paycheck? Suddenly, Noah let go of his fists, rummaged frantically through his designer backpack, and pulled out his phone. “Pull up your Venmo QR code. I’m paying you right now. Starting today, you have to tutor me too.” 07 It turned out, Noah was the legendary “Third to Last” in our grade. He, Liam, and Chloe had formed a stable, unbreakable alliance, permanently occupying the bottom three ranks of the entire school. More importantly, if Liam and Chloe improved their grades, Noah would be automatically bumped down to dead last. And for a massively popular teen idol, being ranked dead last academically was a career-ending PR disaster. “So you have to tutor me. I absolutely cannot be dead last.” I was completely speechless. Because I genuinely couldn’t comprehend how being “third to last” was somehow not a PR disaster. But the moment Noah transferred the money, and I saw the string of zeros hit my account balance, I flashed my brightest smile. Anyone who turns down easy money is an absolute idiot. I instantly restructured my curriculum. Starting today: Noah on Mondays and Wednesdays, Chloe on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Liam on Fridays and Saturdays. There was exactly one week left until midterms. I unleashed a brutal, all-encompassing academic bootcamp on all three of them. Right before the exam, I hammered my final test-taking strategies into their brains: “Remember: If three answers are long and one is short, pick the shortest! If three are short and one is long, pick the longest! If they’re all random lengths, just pick C!” “For the fill-in-the-blank math questions, if you don’t know it, guess 1 or 0! And any number inside a square root is absolutely going to be a perfect integer!” I had prepared a set of high-yield crash-course study guides and forced them to memorize them purely through brute force. A week later, the midterms finally ended. The results came out quickly. Liam and Chloe didn’t disappoint—they smashed their way straight into the top 500. And Noah successfully avoided the dead-last spot, jumping up over a hundred ranks. When they received their report cards, all three of them were absolutely stunned. Liam immediately pulled out his phone to call his dad and brag. “Chloe, you are a literal god! From now on, I will not allow anyone in this school to raise their voice at you!” “I never in my wildest dreams thought I could get grades like this.” “Thank God. I can finally give my manager a decent update,” Noah sighed in relief. The three of them took turns praising me until my ego was practically in orbit. According to Liam, he had barely eaten or slept leading up to the exams. Because the parent-teacher conferences were scheduled right after the exams, he was absolutely terrified that the second the conference ended, his dad would treat him to a “leather belt massage.” Since I didn’t have any family to attend, while everyone else’s parents filled the classroom, I sat alone at my desk. Under the pitying, sympathetic gaze of the homeroom teacher, I swaggered out of the classroom like a boss. Is not having parents attend really that terrifying? I looked back into the classroom. Liam was standing next to his dad, too terrified to even breathe loudly. Until his dad finally looked up from the report card and broke into a massive, proud smile. “Not bad at all! I knew you had it in you, kid!” Liam nodded excitedly. “I know, right, Dad?! You have no idea how hard I grinded for this.” Looking further back, Noah’s parents hadn’t shown up. Surprisingly, his manager was sitting at his desk. The manager looked at his test scores with an equally thrilled expression. “Finally, some actual improvement! Keep pushing, work a little harder, and we can finally start marketing you as the ‘Genius Scholar Idol’!” Everyone was laughing and celebrating. I was just about to leave when I suddenly heard a sharp, harsh voice: “You barely improved your grades a tiny bit, what are you looking so smug about?!” I turned toward the sound. Chloe’s mother was holding her test paper, flipping it over casually before tossing it aside. “It’s just pure luck. Don’t forget you’ve been second to last your entire life.” Chloe stood next to her. The usually arrogant, domineering heiress was currently gripping the hem of her skirt, trembling with anxiety. “But I scored higher than my little brother this time…” “Why are you comparing yourself to your brother?! Can you even compare to him?! Your brother is brilliant, well-behaved, and mature. You scored higher than him on one single test, what gives you the right to compare yourself to him?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440979”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The atmosphere at the high school reunion wedding was electric, the kind of forced joy that usually comes with an open bar and old rivalries. It was all fine until the MC grabbed the mic, grinning as he announced that whoever caught the bouquet would be the next one to find their “happily ever after.” In a moment of sheer, desperate impulse, I lunged forward. I didn’t just catch it; I fought for it, elbowing my way to the front until the silk ribbons were crushed in my palm. Breathless and beaming, I turned toward him, shouting his name over the music. “Daniel! Look! I got the bouquet!” But the reaction I’d rehearsed in my head—the smile, the kiss, the whispered promise—never came. Daniel didn’t even look at the flowers. He just turned his back on me and walked straight toward Sophie, his first love, who was standing a few yards away. The whispers started instantly, sharp as glass shards. “Who is she? She practically tackled that girl for the flowers. Is she that desperate to get a ring?” “That’s Daniel Thorne’s girlfriend. Apparently, she’s been hounding him to propose since they graduated med school. He’s clearly dragging his feet. Doesn’t she get the hint?” “The woman she pushed is Sophie—his high school sweetheart. She’s a single mom now. Imagine getting shoved by your ex’s desperate girlfriend. Talk about bad luck.” I looked down at the bouquet. Suddenly, the flowers felt like glowing coals. Throwing them felt like admitting defeat; holding them felt like a slow burn. Daniel was already on the lounge sofa, lifting Sophie’s foot onto his lap with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in years. … “Does it still hurt?” he asked, his voice a low murmur. “I’m okay, really,” Sophie replied, her voice that specific brand of soft that makes every man in the room want to be a hero. The snickers from our former classmates grew louder. “Man, Daniel really hasn’t changed. He’s still got it bad for the one that got away. Look at him. It’s like the rest of the room doesn’t exist.” “His girlfriend is a piece of work, though. Fighting for a bouquet like it’s a Black Friday sale. She’s lost all her dignity just to get a wedding. If he doesn’t marry her soon, she’ll probably stage a kidnapping.” The laughter cut through me like a serrated blade. I tightened my grip on the stems and walked over to him. “I didn’t push her, Daniel.” He didn’t look up. He was focused on Sophie’s swollen ankle, cleaning a scratch with a precision he usually reserved for the ER. He moved with a practiced ease, his touch light but firm. Finally, he raised his head. His eyes were cold. “Go find out if there’s a shop nearby that’s still open. She can’t walk in those heels. Size six. Get her some flats.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper. My knuckles were white against the bouquet. “Do you even know what size I wear, Daniel?” He hesitated, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, a hollow laugh escaping my throat. “I could tell you a hundred times, and you’d still forget.” The judgmental stares followed me like spotlights. Sophie made a half-hearted attempt to stand, her face a mask of concern. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. It’s not what you think. Daniel, please, your girlfriend is upset. I can handle this myself.” But he gently pressed her back down into the cushions, murmuring instructions on how to keep the foot elevated. I couldn’t breathe. I turned and bolted out of the hotel lobby, the humid night air hitting me like a physical blow. I waited. I stood by the curb, half-expecting—praying—that he would chase after me. I waited until the Uber pulled up. He never came. My phone buzzed as I sat in the backseat. A text: I’m taking her to the hospital just to be safe. Stop making a scene, Hannah. It’s embarrassing for everyone. A tear fell, splashing onto the screen, blurring his words. Seven years. We had been together for seven years, not seven days. How had my desire for a life with him become a punchline? Every woman I knew—girls younger than me, couples who had started dating years after us—was already married. I had watched them all walk down the aisle, one by one. And every single time, they asked the same question: “Hannah, when is it your turn?” I always said, “Soon. We’re just waiting for the right time.” I told myself he was busy with his residency, that he needed to establish his career. But I had waited seven years. When my grandfather was dying, his last wish was to see me in a white dress. He never did. That regret would haunt me forever. Tonight was the wake-up call I had been ignoring. This man didn’t love me. He certainly didn’t want to marry me. He didn’t get home until dusk the next day. I had been sitting on the sofa for five hours, staring at nothing. “When are your parents coming into town?” I asked, my voice thin and exhausted. “I need to make the dinner reservations.” I gripped the hem of my shirt. Every time I brought up wedding planning at dinner, he found a way to deflect. My parents were starting to look like fools, constantly being stood up or brushed off. He paused, not meeting my eyes, and headed for the bathroom. “Don’t bother with a reservation.” “Just get some rest,” he added over his shoulder. “You have work tomorrow.” “I’m quitting,” I said. He stopped in his tracks. “My parents found me a job back home. They also found someone they want me to meet. A setup. I saw his picture—six-foot-two, handsome, a doctor just like you. If things go well, I could be married by next year.” He spun around, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp anger. He grabbed my shoulders, his grip tight. “Are you really that desperate? You’re going to blackmail me into a proposal by threatening to marry some stranger?” “Yes! I’m thirty, Daniel! Not twenty-three, not twenty. Thirty.” My voice broke. “Do you have any idea what that means? If I waste another two years on you, the doctors will be writing ‘geriatric pregnancy’ on my charts before we even pick a venue. I gave you the best seven years of my life, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t compete with the ghost of Sophie.” His brow furrowed. He reached out as if to touch my face, then pulled back, his hand hovering in mid-air. “Sophie and I… it’s not what you think.” A loud knock interrupted us. A man’s head poked through the doorway—one of Daniel’s med school friends. “Hey, man! You ready? We’re heading to the after-party. You coming?” “Get out,” Daniel snapped. “I’m not going.” The friend hesitated. “Sophie’s there… some of the guys from the old crowd are cornering her, trying to get her to do shots. She looks pretty overwhelmed. You sure?” The change in Daniel’s face was instantaneous. The anger he’d felt toward me vanished, replaced by a sharp, focused anxiety. He looked at me, as if waiting for me to give him permission—or perhaps just waiting for me to get out of his way. “Go,” I said, the word tasting like ash. “Go before your precious Sophie gets her feelings hurt.” He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his keys and headed for the door. “Go to sleep,” he said. “Stop overthinking everything.” The roar of his engine faded into the night. He hadn’t loved me in a long time. I was just the only person in the world who refused to admit it. I tossed and turned all night, finally succumbing to a chemical sleep after two Ambien. When I woke up the next morning, the table was set with breakfast. Daniel was in the kitchen, wearing an apron. He walked over and slid a small, navy-blue folder across the table toward me. His birth certificate and social security card. “Let’s do it,” he said. “Let’s get married.” For seven years, I had prayed for those words. Now, my heart just felt heavy. “I know your favorite food is honey-glazed salmon,” he said softly. “I know you wear a size six shoe. I know you prefer leggings to jeans because you hate being restricted. I know you don’t wear perfume because you’re allergic to most florals.” So, he did know. He had always known. Maybe I had pushed him too hard yesterday. Maybe this was his way of finally choosing me. His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then quickly stripped off the apron. “There’s an emergency surgery at the hospital. Wait for me. As soon as I’m out of the OR, we’ll head to City Hall and get the license.” I had waited so long for this. Seven years of history was too much to just throw away. I spent the afternoon doing my makeup, picking out my most elegant white dress, and I arrived at City Hall early. I waited until the clerks started clearing their desks. I watched the sun dip below the skyline. “Ma’am?” the security guard asked. “We’re closing in five minutes. Are you waiting for someone?” Numbly, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. It rang and rang. Finally, someone picked up. But it wasn’t Daniel. It was a woman. “Dr. Thorne is busy right now. Is there a message I can take?” Daniel hated anyone touching his phone. And I knew that voice. It was Sophie. “I…” The words died in my throat. I hung up. Walking out of City Hall, the evening chill seeped into my bones. But it was nothing compared to the sharp, sudden cramp in my abdomen. My vision went black, and the pavement rushed up to meet me. When I woke up, I was in a sterile hospital room. A young nurse beamed at me. “Good news, honey. You’re pregnant.” Later, as I walked past the neonatal unit, I stared through the glass at the tiny, fragile lives in the incubators. So small. So innocent. I remembered asking Daniel once if he wanted kids. He had pulled me close, his chin resting on the top of my head, and whispered, “Let’s have two. One that looks like you, and one that has my stubborn streak.” But now, carrying his child, I didn’t feel joy. I felt a cold, paralyzing fear. At the end of the hallway, I saw a familiar white coat. Daniel. He was holding the hand of a small boy, walking toward me. Sophie was at his side. Looking at them, they didn’t look like a doctor and a patient’s family. They looked like a family. If Sophie hadn’t left the country all those years ago, she would have been the one in the white dress today. I was just the placeholder. “Daddy Daniel, when I’m all better, can we go to Disney World?” the little boy chirped. My heart stopped. Daddy? Daniel finally saw me. He let go of the boy’s hand, his brow knitting together. “What are you doing here?” I looked him dead in the eye. “Since when do you have a son?” A flicker of guilt crossed his face, but Sophie stepped forward before he could speak. “Hannah, please don’t be mad at Daniel. I’m divorced, and my son is just very attached to him. He calls him that because… well, because Daniel has been so wonderful to us.” She looked back at the boy and lowered her voice. “He has a congenital blood disorder. Daniel didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to worry. Today was his surgery. Daniel hasn’t left his side.” I looked at Daniel. He stood there, silent. He could have explained. He could have sent a text. A single sentence would have saved me hours of agonizing at City Hall. But he chose to let her be the one to tell me. I looked at the thin, pale boy hiding behind Sophie’s skirt, his arm wrapped in gauze. My anger flickered, replaced by a hollow ache. To make it up to me, Daniel invited my parents to a private dinner at a high-end steakhouse. The table was filled with my favorite dishes, the atmosphere forced but polite. But every time the conversation drifted toward the wedding, his phone would vibrate. Finally, he answered. It was Sophie, her voice a frantic, sobbing mess that bled through the receiver. “Daniel, I’m scared! His father is here—he’s trying to take him! He hit me, Daniel! Please, I don’t know what to do!” Daniel surged to his feet. I grabbed his hand, using every ounce of my strength to hold him back. “My parents are here, Daniel. You promised. You said you wouldn’t walk out today.” He looked down at me, then gently but firmly pried my fingers off his arm. “I have to go. This is an emergency, Hannah. I’ll come back as soon as it’s settled and apologize to your parents. I promise.” The door swung shut behind him. My mother sat in stunned silence. My father’s wine glass remained suspended in mid-air. I looked at my empty palm and realized how pathetic I looked. Worried about his safety—or perhaps just needing to see the truth for myself—I followed him. His car was parked in front of a luxury townhouse I recognized. It was the house we had toured six months ago. We were supposed to move in after we got married. Now, the windows glowed with a warm, inviting light. Sophie and her son were already living in my dream. In the driveway, Daniel was in a heated scuffle with a man. Daniel’s knuckles were bloody—the hands of a surgeon, now bruised for a woman who wasn’t his. He pinned the man against a car. The man spat on the ground and laughed. “Fine! You want me to leave them alone? Give me twenty grand a month. Or I’ll keep coming back. You can’t protect them forever.” Daniel kicked the man’s legs out from under him, pulled a gold card from his wallet, and threw it at his face. “Take the card and get the hell out of here!” Sophie threw herself into Daniel’s arms, sobbing into his chest. I stood in the shadows, watching them. I felt like an intruder in someone else’s life. My phone rang. It was my mother. “Hannah, that man is not reliable. Seven years, and he treats us like an afterthought. You’re not a girl anymore. Don’t waste another second.” “That setup your father mentioned? I called him. He’s successful, kind, and he wants to meet you. Hannah…” “Mom,” I interrupted, my voice sounding like a stranger’s. “Set it up. I’ll meet him.” The next day, I went to Daniel’s office to return the navy folder. The room was empty. As I turned to leave, Sophie’s son appeared in the doorway. “Are you the Mean Lady Mom talked about?” The Mean Lady? My heart tightened. He raised a toy water gun and squirted it directly into my face, laughing. “Bang! You’re dead, Mean Lady! You can’t have my Daddy! My Mom and Daddy belong together!” Water dripped down my forehead, soaking my hair. I stepped forward to take the toy away from him, but the second I moved, he let out a piercing shriek. Daniel and Sophie burst into the room. “What happened?” Sophie cried, rushing to her son. The boy pointed a trembling finger at me. “She said I don’t have a daddy! She tried to hit me!” Sophie’s eyes welled with tears. “Hannah, if you think Daniel and I are too close, I’ll stay away. But please, don’t take your bitterness out on my son. He’s sick. Do you have any idea what this stress does to him?” I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Daniel grabbed my wrist, his eyes burning with a dark, primal rage. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed. “I told you I’d marry you! What more do you want? Do you need to destroy a child just to feel secure?” He gripped me so hard that the bandage on his own hand began to seep blood. I couldn’t find the words. Sophie screamed. “Daniel! He’s turning pale! Help him!” Daniel shoved me aside to get to the boy. The force was so sudden that I stumbled back, the small of my back slamming into the sharp corner of his mahogany desk. A white-hot pain exploded in my spine. I doubled over, clutching my stomach as my vision blurred. “Daniel… it hurts…” He didn’t turn around. I looked down. A dark, crimson stain was blooming across the skirt of my pale dress. I collapsed onto the floor, the world fading to gray. When I woke up, the doctor’s face told me everything before he even spoke. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. We couldn’t save the baby. You’re young, though. You’ll be able to try again.” I touched my flat stomach. I felt nothing. No tears, no anger. Just a profound sense of relief. The last thread tying me to Daniel had finally snapped. My parents helped me pack. My mother’s eyes were full of pity as we loaded the last of my boxes into the car. “Are you sure about this, Hannah? Once we leave, we aren’t coming back.” I took one last look at the apartment. Seven years of memories, seven years of building a life for a man who didn’t exist. I checked my phone one last time. A notification from Sophie’s Instagram popped up. A photo of Daniel’s hand—wearing the watch I had bought him for his birthday—holding hers. The caption: No matter what happens, you’re always by my side. I forced a smile. “I’m sure, Mom. I’m staying with you and Dad from now on.” As the car pulled away, I took out my SIM card and tossed it out the window. That night, back at the hospital, Daniel developed a nagging cough. He reached for the drawer where I always kept his medicine, but it was empty. He realized he’d been too harsh with me. He realized he’d stood up my parents. Again. He sighed and reached for his phone to call me. There was a knock on the door. A young nurse walked in, holding a chart. “Dr. Thorne? Your girlfriend, Hannah… she was admitted earlier. She had a miscarriage. The doctor said she needs to be very careful with her recovery.” Daniel froze. The world around him seemed to stop breathing.

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My system gave me one month to say goodbye to this world. I finally became the magnanimous wife and gentle mother I was supposed to be. I no longer felt jealous of Evan’s lingering feelings for the female lead, nor did I mind our son constantly clamoring for her to be his mother. But these warm and harmonious days didn’t last long. Evan became unaccustomed to it. When he was about to leave again in the middle of the night because of a single phone call from the female lead, I proactively handed him the car keys. His gaze froze, his eyes turning red: “Chloe, do you not love me anymore?” Yeah. I don’t love you anymore. Not even our son. I don’t love either of you anymore. 01 Stella called Evan at 1 AM, crying that she was afraid of the thunder. Evan didn’t hesitate for a second, immediately springing out of bed. I got up too. “Chloe, stopping me won’t work! Stella has been afraid of thunder since we were kids; I have to go!” Evan scolded me with a dark expression. In the past, I definitely would have caused a scene. But not anymore. I just quietly handed him the car keys: “Drive safe.” Evan was stunned. He looked at me in disbelief. “Hurry up, Stella is waiting for you,” I smiled slightly. A flicker of dark, unreadable emotion flashed in Evan’s eyes, but he didn’t linger. He hurried out the door. I knew he wouldn’t be coming back tonight. Before, I would have spent the night tossing and turning. Worrying that he and Stella would rekindle their old flame. But now, there was no need. Because in one month, I’ll be leaving this world. 02 I’m a “Transmigrator,” tasked with completing a mission. My target was the deeply devoted second male lead in this novel, Evan Hayes. According to the plot, Evan was supposed to fall into a severe depression and commit suicide three years after the female lead, Stella, married the male lead. My mission was to change the tragic fate of the second male lead and ensure he lived a good life. Now, the mission is finally over. The system detected that Evan no longer had suicidal tendencies and told me I could go home. Considering that I had married Evan and even had a child with him, the system said I could choose whether to stay or go back. In the past, maybe I would have hesitated. But Stella returned from abroad half a month ago. Evan, who had finally developed some feelings for me, immediately shifted all his focus and attention back to her. Even the son I raised so painstakingly took a massive liking to Stella the very first time they met. He even innocently whispered in my ear: “I wish Aunt Stella was my mom.” So, I had no reason to stay. The system gave me one month to say goodbye to this world. Because once I leave, we’ll truly be separated by life and death, never to see each other again. 03 At 7:30 AM. I prepared breakfast and woke my son up. Leo is 6 years old this year. Just started first grade. The reason Evan and I got married and had Leo was because on the night of Stella’s birthday, Evan got drunk and mistook me for her. He didn’t plan on taking responsibility. But unfortunately, I got pregnant. I played a few tricks and had his family pressure him into marrying me. For the first few years of our marriage, Evan was incredibly cold to me. Later, as Stella’s relationship with the male lead grew stronger, and she even moved abroad with him after they got married, Evan finally started looking at me. Plus, we had Leo. Because of our inextricably tangled relationship, I could clearly feel his attitude towards me changing. But all of that ended when Stella suddenly returned to the country. She came back alone. The very night she returned, she called Evan. I don’t know what they talked about. I only saw a panic in Evan I had never seen before, and then he drove off without looking back to see her. Since then, Stella has frequently appeared in our lives. 04 Stella’s reappearance made me irritable, anxious, and even terrified. I was worried Evan still had feelings for her, but according to the plot, Stella didn’t like Evan at all. I was afraid that in the end, Evan’s depression would relapse because of Stella, and he would commit suicide. So I desperately tried to stop Evan from seeing Stella. Pushed to the brink, I even slit my wrists in front of him. But it didn’t do any good; it only made Evan despise me more. Even Leo would say: “Mom, why can’t you be emotionally stable like Aunt Stella?” But thankfully… The system suddenly told me I could go home. Evan wouldn’t fall into depression anymore. It’s actually quite ironic. I spent ten years on Evan, but in the end, it was the female lead who cured him. As soon as Stella returned, all of Evan’s illnesses vanished. I called Leo again. Leo yelled impatiently: “I want to sleep, leave me alone! Aunt Stella said school isn’t everything! I don’t want to go to school!” I didn’t bother him again. After throwing away all the breakfast I made, I left the house. I had just ordered a coffee and sat down. When I received a call from Evan: “Chloe, what are you doing? Why didn’t you take Leo to school? His homeroom teacher just called me!” 05 I wasn’t surprised the teacher called him. Because she had just called me, and I didn’t answer. Since I’ve already decided to let go, anything regarding Leo should be handled by Evan. “I called Leo, and he said you disappeared first thing in the morning! Chloe, enough is enough. You were so magnanimous last night, and now you’re throwing this kind of tantrum today. It’s really annoying.” Evan’s tone was full of disgust. “Leo said he didn’t want to go to class today, he wanted to sleep, so I didn’t bother him. Isn’t this what you said too? Let kids be kids, don’t force them?” My tone was light. In the past, I disciplined Leo, set rules for him, taught him manners, and cultivated good habits. But in Evan’s eyes, this was all unnecessary. Even when Leo threw bad tantrums, Evan would blame me: “Chloe, Leo is your son, not your doll. Can you stop being so controlling with everyone?” With Evan backing him up, Leo always went against me. But thankfully, Evan was always busy, and I spent much more time with Leo, so most of the time, he was relatively obedient. But ever since interacting with Stella, Leo’s rebellious genes had awakened, and he opposed me at every turn. He said: “Mom, Aunt Stella and Dad have the same ideas, so you are wrong. You’re suppressing my true nature. I wish Aunt Stella could be my mom.” After that. I decided to respect all of them. “Chloe, do you have to be so passive-aggressive?” Evan said coldly: “Since you can’t take good care of Leo, then don’t. It just so happens Stella is feeling lonely living alone right now, so I’ll take Leo to keep her company.” “Okay,” I agreed immediately. “Since you agreed, don’t cause a scene later. I don’t want things to get too ugly between us,” Evan confirmed. He was afraid I would regret it and go bother him again. “Don’t worry.” Evan hung up the phone. I continued drinking my coffee, watching the people coming and going on the street. I’ve been here for ten whole years, and I’ve never really taken the time to experience this world. Wow, the sky can be so blue! 06 After Leo went to stay with Stella. Stella became visibly happier. This was mainly evident on her Instagram. I don’t remember when I added Stella. I probably initiated it. Back when I was trying to win Evan over, I shamelessly tried to befriend her. I watched as Stella religiously posted about Leo’s daily life, three meals a day, without fail. I found it somewhat amusing. Especially today’s post: [Leo suddenly said today that he wants to live with me forever and wants me to be his mom. But I sternly reprimanded him. Saying things like that will break his mom’s heart.] Knowing full well it would hurt me, she deliberately posted it for everyone to see. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “What are you laughing at?” Evan asked me, frowning. It was very rare; Evan actually came straight home after work today to have dinner with me. But I only cooked a portion for myself. So, he ordered takeout. “Nothing.” I casually “liked” the post and put my phone down. “Did you suddenly come back because you need something?” I asked him calmly. “Do I need a reason to come back?” Evan suddenly got very angry. I had no idea why he was losing his temper. I wasn’t interfering with his life at all right now. “Chloe, let’s see how long you can keep up this stubbornness!” Evan suddenly put down his chopsticks. It seemed the takeout didn’t suit his taste. Evan left the table. I continued eating my dinner. “Chloe, this Saturday is Leo’s birthday.” Evan finally got to the point: “Don’t forget.” “Okay,” I nodded. I had planned Leo’s 6th birthday a long time ago. I booked the best themed hotel in the city to celebrate. But now, I didn’t know if we’d still be using it. “You still handle the arrangements, but Stella will also be there. In front of our relatives and friends, don’t give her a hard time,” Evan reminded me. “Okay,” I continued to nod. Evan looked at me several times, and only seemed relieved when he saw I didn’t have any particular reaction. But then he took a phone call, and his expression changed again. 07 “Chloe, how long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum?” Evan roared at me. I was baffled. I mean, what am I not doing right now? “Do you know you made Stella cry!” Evan accused me. “What did I do?” “What did you just do on Instagram?” “I ‘liked’ her post. So what?” “You were deliberately being passive-aggressive, weren’t you? You deliberately wanted to embarrass her! Knowing we have so many mutual friends, you still did it!” Evan’s face turned red with anger. I still didn’t understand: “What exactly did I do to her?” “Why did you ‘like’ her post?” “Didn’t she post it to get ‘likes’?” “Anyone else can, but you can’t!” Evan said self-righteously. “…So, am I supposed to be invisible?” I asked Evan carefully. “Do you have to be so aggressive? I told you, there’s nothing going on between Stella and me. I’m just looking out for her. Do you really need to insult her like this?” I was speechless. Deep in thought. Falling into self-doubt. “I originally wanted to spend some quality time with you tonight, but it looks like you don’t need it!” Evan dropped that sentence and slammed the door as he left. Watching him leave, I truly found it baffling. Of course. It didn’t matter anymore. They were all irrelevant people. Not worth wasting my time trying to figure out his thoughts. 08 On the day of Leo’s birthday, I went to the party venue early. The large private room was crowded. Very lively. Leo arrived with Evan and Stella. The moment he saw me, he couldn’t hide the joy on his face. He’s only 6 after all. Not at an age where he can hide his feelings. And we had been separated for 10 days. It was perfectly normal for him to miss me when we suddenly saw each other. “Mom!” Leo called out to me loudly. At that moment, he was about to pull away from Stella’s hand to come to me. I saw Stella crouch down, looking at Leo somewhat sadly. She said: “Didn’t you promise me you’d stay with me the whole time today? You said you wouldn’t leave me alone, right?” Leo looked torn. But he still nodded obediently. Stella smiled beautifully: “I knew you were the best to me.” Her voice even carried a hint of a whine. Like she was acting spoiled. When the female lead acts spoiled, it is naturally flawless and beautiful. It doesn’t feel artificial or fake at all. No wonder men can’t resist. I didn’t bother them either. When the birthday party started, Leo took the microphone to give a speech. With his childish voice, he said: “Thank you everyone for coming to my 6th birthday party. Thank you to Dad and Mom for carefully preparing this birthday party for me…” He paused, then said loudly: “A special thanks to Aunt Stella. Aunt Stella is really good to me. My birthday wish is that she stays young and beautiful forever.” Stella was standing not far from me. There were tears of emotion in her eyes, moving to anyone who saw it. In that moment, I saw Evan’s hand gently pat Stella’s shoulder. And also in that moment. Evan’s gaze shifted to me. I quickly looked away. Afraid of intruding. After Leo finished speaking, everyone started eating. The party was a buffet. Just as I was leaving the food area holding a glass of red wine, I bumped right into Stella. The red wine spilled all over Stella’s white dress. Every last drop. “Chloe, why would you do this to me? Did I do something wrong?” Stella’s eyes turned red as she pitifully accused me. Before I could even speak. Evan quickly rushed in front of me, shielding Stella tightly behind him: “Chloe, enough! I’ve put up with you long enough lately!”

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